


In The Hours

by MaresThird



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Danger, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaresThird/pseuds/MaresThird
Summary: Christen knows she's been a little extra lately, making sure everything is in place and needing a plan. She nearly lost it during the quarantine but now that they're back playing, she thought she'd feel better. It hasn't. In fact it's only made her more intense and she knows the source of it is from many factors, the virus, the quarantine, missing the Challenge Cup, racial uproar and her own insecurities. But mostly it's because she's missing her Mom and can't seem to get it over it.Tonight she was being unreasonable with Tobin as she was leaving for a meeting with the Thorns.Now Tobin is missing and she doesn't know how to deal with it. Her whole life is upside down and she's sitting here, waiting, in the hours.
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 121
Kudos: 259





	1. Conflict

.

Christen has nearly lost her mind in these last few hours. Maybe she actually has, she isn't sure. She’s numb to her surroundings, numb to her emotions, knowing she’s home with Becky Sauerbrunn sitting next to her, surreptitiously giving her looks of concern. Kling is here as well, sitting behind them at the kitchen table, on her phone, texting and speaking in hushed tones to the group that left here an hour ago. 

Her mind keeps replaying the evening, how it all started. Her and Tobin were talking about where to spend the upcoming holidays. Upcoming, meaning in the next six months. Christen is a planner. Tobin is a planner as well, but her methods aren’t nearly as precise as Christen’s and usually she can overlook Tobin being casual about things but not today. Today Christen was on edge and her need to have plans in place was urgent. She didn't know exactly why but it didn't stop her from ragging on Tobin to get her family thinking about where they were spending Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's Eve. 

_Today, she is pressing her, repeatedly asking Tobin if she’s called her Mom or talked to her Dad. Asking her if she’s given thought to trying to host both families this year, maybe in LA or here in Portland. She knows she’s being unreasonable in her need to have a plan, it’s just that this is the second year without her Mom and she wants to know what to expect and for some reason, she needs to know right now. Tonight. She can’t help herself. It’s the middle of September and Christen really needs to have a plan in place and somehow this plan needs to come together tonight and she's aggravated that her fiance is being a bit too casual about it._

_Well, right now is when Tobin was trying to get out of the house to go to a meeting for the Thorns before their game against the Royals on Sunday in two days. Christen had managed to fly out after practice today and had been looking forward to spending time with her fiancé._

_Christen is very aware that Tobin is one of the most caring people she knows and she’s usually very perceptive Christen’s moods and needs, yet she is frustrated she’s unable to make Tobin understand how she really needs an answer right now and Tobin isn’t picking up on it. As inopportune as it is. Tobin has grown frustrated, sighing deeply as she gathers her keys and looks at her, her warm brown eyes searching for any clue of how to pacify Christen in this moment._

_“I’ll call my Mom and get the ball rolling,” she promises, “and we can figure this out when I get back, okay?” She’s being as diplomatic as possible, which Christen appreciates, yet she also feels bad for putting her in this situation, but she also needs an answer._

_Christen’s anxiety hasn’t peaked liked this in a while and she knows it catches Tobin off guard. Tobin steps towards her, wrapping her arms around her and kissing her just at the corner of her mouth, “I promise I’ll get on it tonight, okay?” she murmurs._

_Christen nods, she knows her face is showing disappointment and she just can’t help it. “Okay,” she breathes out, stepping out of her grasp, feeling grateful to Tobin yet knowing her tone is clearly stating some exasperation. Tobin gives her a regretful look and Christen is pretty sure Tobin feels disappointed she doesn’t have time to fix this right now to satisfy her._

_“You said your meeting is scheduled to end at six?” Christen remembers confirming with her, “I can start dinner before then,” she offers, trying to extend a small olive branch of peace._

_“Sounds great,” Tobin says half heartedly with a small grin, one that doesn’t reach her eyes. Christen looks at her and frowns, seeing a little defeat in Tobin’s eyes._

_“We can work on it later,” Christen dismisses, waving her hand, “it’s okay,”_

_Tobin frowns, confused if this is some unusual passive aggressive thing or truly an honest statement, “I said I’ll work on it,” she says gently, “I will when I get back,”_

_“No, it’s alright,” Christen tries again earnestly, “I’m just in my head,” she shrugs, “we can do it later,”_

_“Chris,” Tobin says, frowning and stepping close to kiss her again, “we’ll do it tonight,” she states evenly, “no problem,”_

_Now Christen is frustrated, feeling like she’s making Tobin feel as if she has to cater to her every whim, even the ones that are motivated by her anxiety, “Whatever,” she says, more frustrated at herself and the situation than anything Tobin has done._

_There's a weighted silence in the room before Tobin speaks._

_“Later, babe,” she says quietly, “love you,”_

_As soon as Tobin left, Christen immediately went to the balcony, her place of solace, the place she enjoys just being and clearing her head. The place she spends most of her mornings, weather permitting, to read and relax and prepare herself for the day. She’s desperately needing to center herself and lose this edginess she felt. She fidgets in the chair, it's suddenly uncomfortable and now the balcony feels too small, too sterile and not comforting and she can’t concentrate on attempting to gain any peace since she was too upset with herself for how she treated Tobin._

_She realizes she’s out of control and should seriously consider seeing her therapist again when she returns to Utah. She’s been struggling to navigate a new normal without her Mother being a part of it, balancing her feelings and emotions and anger in the injustice of losing her in the first place. She’s spent many hours on the comfortable sofa in her therapist’s office, talking about loss, grief and her anxiety issues._

_When Coivd-19 struck the country and her and Tobin decided to shelter in place in Portland, she kept her daily routines, kept up her yoga and her journaling and readings and occasionally checking in with her therapist via video chats and phone calls. She truly was feeling better._

_Then when the racial unrest came to a head and team meetings and player group chats turned into deep thoughts and hard conversations about race and inequality and what is equitable, things began to slowly unravel for her._

_She was being bombarded by her teammates who were asking what to do. She wasn't used to being looked at as a black player, it never was something that had come up before. Now, her teammates were looking to her and it was exhausting and she didn’t have the answers. Some of her white teammates had absolutely no clue to their privilege nor latent racism and bringing up those examples was difficult and took an emotional of all of them. Kelley was hurt because she felt targeted, trying to explain how some of those instances were jokes and she didn’t mean it and not realizing how hurtful they were. Many of the Royals expected or assumed Christen would really work on Kelley’s disposition and that felt like a burden._

_Christen didn’t have her Mom to rely on, her sounding board, her go to person for advice. Grand Fran helped but it wasn’t the same and it sent her down the well of grief just a little deeper._

_Connecting with other black players in the NWSL had been a Godsend. Together they crafted a message for their teammates, an offering of suggestions of how they could use their platforms to amplify the voices of black people. Christen felt a disconnect even from the Royals’ team chat when she opted out of the Challenge Cup. Her teammates were vocal of their support her decision, yet she felt guilty for doing it even though she was fearful of the virus entering the bubble and leaving players in the league sick and left with lifelong health complications. It appeared that each day brought new devastating effects from the virus and her and Tobin did not want to risk it._

_Yet there was some sort of disconnect. Especially when they started playing matches. Gone was the group training via Zoom, gone were the emails to her on offensive plays and set pieces. Tobin felt it as well with the Thorns and they both admitted it hurt and they felt left out._

_They both maintained steady communication with their teammates, but both felt the rub of not being there. The inside jokes. The talk of what happened during their allotted pool time. The coffee runs. They did what they could._

_Now, with her unintentionally jerking Tobin around with her passive aggressive tactics, she feels she needs to get a handle on it. She needs to get in touch with her therapist. She doesn’t want to hurt Tobin like this again. That’s not her. That’s not who she wants to be._

_Christen is a woman of action and while she had spent her days educating herself on systemic racism and the true history of blacks in America, she had neglected to maintain her mental health routine. Her therapist still offered video chats, yet there was something odd to her about pouring her out to a computer screen. So she stopped doing it. She realizes now that it was a mistake and she had tricked herself into thinking she was just stressed by current events and not by her own growing instability._

_This epiphany calmed her, she now had a plan of action and soon would put in the work to get back on track. It wouldn't be easy but she was willing to put in the work to get back her life and ease the obsessive thoughts. She resolves that if her therapist encourages some medication, she would do it. She doesn't ever want to be in this state again._

_Christen was only out there on the balcony for less than twenty minutes before she would feel fear and terror like she's never before as her world turns upside down._

__

And now she sits here, on edge and trembling, her thoughts scattered in a million directions, her emotions all over the place. There's a pit in her stomach and she feels queasy, her mouth is dry and eyes are wet. 

__

She gasps softly and turns to look at Becky. She can only stare at her with this thought that has raced to the forefront of her mind. 

__

"What, Chris?' Becky asks gently, laying a hand on her knee. 

__

"I didn't say I love you," Christen says, her words rushed and running together. "When Tobin left, she said I love you," she says urgently, her filled with regret, "I didn't say it back," she cries, the tears coming once again, hard regret filled sobs emanating from her. 

__

XXXX

__


	2. Discovery

.

After her sobs had subsded, Christen is broken from her reverie by Becky standing up from the sofa and padding over to the kitchen. She silently watches as the tall blond moves to open the cabinet holding the glasses and removes two. Christen looks towards to the balcony, seeing the darkness indicating how much time has passed. 

“Here,” Becky offers her a glass of water as she sits down again, “are you sure I can’t call anyone for you?” 

Christen robotically takes the glass and a long drink, “No,” she shakes her head, “I told Cindy and my Dad and sisters I would text them if there’s anymore news,” she says, her voice sounding strange to her. Strained, raw from crying and all of the tears she’s shed the past few hours. Her eyes water again as she thinks of the first indication of how her  
entire life has changed just a few hours ago. 

She remembers when she looked down at her ringing phone, tilting her head at the caller ID, her brows knit with confusion seeing who the caller was. That would be her first inkling something was wrong. 

_“Christen?” A strong female German voice asked, “It’s Nadine.”_

_“Hey, Nadine,” she replied, “what’s up?”_

_“Is Tobin there? We have a meeting…” her voice trailed off when she the sharp intake of breath from Christen._

_“She should be there,” Christen had answered rapidly, a bolt of fear rushing through her, “She left like, twenty minutes ago. She’s not there?”_

_“No,” Nadine replied, “I tried to call and text, didn’t get a reply,” she explained, “maybe she got a flat tire,” she suggested._

_Christen’s mind is whirring with possibilities, none of them good._

_“I’ll check with security,” Nadine offered hurriedly, “see if they saw her come in the lot and let you know what they say.”_

_“Okay,” Christen had replied, her mind already running with disastrous scenarios of Tobin being in peril. As she had stared at her phone, she had chastised herself, telling herself to think positive. Tobin was changing a tire and wasn’t answering her phone. Tobin ran out of gas and her phone was dead. Tobin was at Providence Park and got stalled from entering the meeting._

_It turned out that all of Christen’s sending positive scenarios out into the universe didn’t sway the next series of events into anything close to those simple ideas of where Tobin was and what she doing._

_The phone call from the Thorns head of security who stated Tobin had been seen entering the parking lot and then exiting the same parking lot in her vehicle only a few minutes after._

_Christen’s own unanswered phone calls and text messages sent to her fiancée._

_Answering the questions from Tobin’s teammates who contacted her after the meeting was dismissed._

_Meghan Klingenberg coming over immediately as did new Thorn Becky Sauerbrunn after Meghan had told her Tobin was missing._

_She was grateful for them being there when two police officers arrived at the door, stating the worst possible news she could imagine._

_“A vehicle registered to Tobin Heath was involved in an accident.” Christen felt her legs grow weak and Becky’s grip on her waist tighten._

_“A body was recovered from the wreckage,” the female officer stated, looking absolutely wrecked as she relayed the information, “there was a fire. I’m terribly sorry to say, but identification needs to be through DNA or dental records.”_

_That’s when the dizziness took over and little black dots appeared before her eyes, swirling and swirling, faster and faster before blackness overtook her._

_Christen had awoke on the couch, the officers were gone, making her think she had just drifted off and had a terrible dream. As soon as she saw Becky, her lip quivered as she realized what she thought was a nightmare was actually her reality._

_Becky timidly informed her that she able to provide them with the name of Tobin’s dentist since they share the same doctor. Christen hasn’t ever remembered crying as much as she had, her crying far surpassed anything she had experienced, even her own Mother passing away._

_She was sobbing and shaking, stuttering as she confessed to Becky how she and Tobin had a somewhat tense exchange before Tobin left the condo. Becky held her tightly as she sobbed, not speaking, because what could be said to comfort Christen in the moment._

_Things moved quickly after that._

_The dreaded phone call to Tobin’s Mom and Dad and the calls to her siblings._

_Calling her Father and tearfully telling him the news. Calling her own sisters._

_Kling had called Mark Parsons to share the awful news. The team had been notified and asked for prayers and media silence until a positive identification had been made._

_Tobin’s teammates began arriving to Tobin’s condo, offering wild eyed condolences, Christen feeling she was a weeping widow even before being able to marry Tobin.  
It was when the place was packed with grief filled soccer players when the call came. _

_The Thorns security team had only spoken with the parking lot attendant previously. John, the head of security, decided to check the cameras to see if there were any clues as to why Tobin would leave so hurriedly._

_Turns out when they viewed the parking lot cameras, they had shown Tobin had exited her car and while walking across the lot, she had been approached by a female. The two returned to Tobin’s vehicle with Tobin, oddly enough, in the passenger seat. Then they left the property with the unknown female driving Tobin’s vehicle._

_The police had been notified and were deployed to search the area of the crash for Tobin. Her wrecked vehicle would be searched again for clues._

_The waiting was agonizing._

_New scenarios had entered Christen’s mind._

_Tobin lying in the woods injured and in pain after somehow being able to escape the crashed vehicle._

_Tobin’s remains being found in the trunk of the Audi._

_Tobin not being found._

_Who was this woman who had intercepted Tobin and what occurred that compelled Tobin to leave with her? And let the woman drive her car?_

_Christen’s head was pounding, she felt physically ill._

_A new report came from the Police and Christen’s mind was spinning in all directions._

_Tobin’s wallet had been found in the melted center console._

_A pistol had been found in the vehicle._

_Did Tobin own a gun?_

_Tobin didn’t own a gun._

_Did this mystery woman have the gun and force Tobin to leave with her?_

_Where was Tobin?_

That is her only thought as she sits on the couch. 

Where is Tobin? 

XXXX


	3. Hope

.

Things happened fast after the new update from the Police. 

It was Becky, Kling and Christine Sinclair who started it. Becky had kindly asked to borrow Christen’s laptop. The three huddled around it at the kitchen table, murmuring quietly as they looked at the screen.

Rachel Corsie and Amy Rodriguez were now there, sitting on either side of Christen, searching to find words to comfort her. It was quiet. What could be said to make any of this better? 

Christen looked around the room, noticing that Kelley wasn’t here. 

“Where’s Kelley?” Christen had asked Amy. 

Amy frowned, “She said she couldn’t be here,” she explained, “said it was too hard.” 

Christen sniffed and nodded. Ever since the Challenge Cup, Kelley had changed. She had taken much abuse from fans, teammates and other players around the league for her decision not to kneel during the National Anthem. Christen recalled again the countless meetings they had while the team was in the bubble, explaining what systemic racism was, what defunding the police truly meant. What white privilege was and how to recognize it. 

Kelley said all the right things and was sympathetic to her teammates, yet it never seemed genuine to Christen. She most likely never read the books they recommended and she  
didn’t use her platform very much to speak out on the subject. 

Their Royals teammates were perplexed but Christen and Tobin and some of the other players on the National Team felt they knew the real reason. Back when they were playing on the youth national teams, they spent much time talking and Christen remembered very clearly the incident when Kelley spoke about her proud family history. 

_”Oh yeah,” Kelley said, popping another Skittle in her mouth, “my Mom is a member of the Daughter’s of the Revolution,” she said proudly, “we’re FFG.”_

_“What’s FFG?” Tobin had asked from her position on the floor. Tobin’s family came from England in the 1670’s and grew wealthy being iron workers. They had capitalized on their fortune during the Industrial Revolution and had since guided and built that wealth in construction. Tobin came from decent money, but you’d never expect it from her. Christen liked that about her, she never flashed the obvious money she had._

_Most of the team were scattered about the room, piled on the two beds, the floor and any other available space._

_“First Family of Georgia,” Kelley responded, “founding families,” she explained._

_“Did your family farm or were they in business?” Alex had asked with interest._

_“Oh, they had a bunch of farms,” Kelley responded, “lots of different crops and kept at it even after the Civil War,”_

_A light tension filled the room since Christen had just previously stated how her great-great-grandfather had been a slave on a farm in Georgia who fought for his freedom, moved to New York and became a businessman and land owner. Most of the team had no idea she was black, let alone her ancestors were slaves._

_Oblivious to the furtive looks players were shooting at another, Kelley pressed on, “Yeah, some of my uncles and cousins do reenactments of the Battle of Brown’s Hill,” she nodded._

_Thankfully, Lauren Cheney interrupted to explain the funny story of how her ancestors had inadvertently caused a flood in their little town and the whole city had to run for their lives. The group had gotten back to joking around, but how Kelley had spoken of her ancestors stuck with Christen. Even throughout college, when there were a few racial incidents the team had to deal with at Stanford, Kelley remained silent._

_Over the years, Christen felt disheartened with how Kelley never seemed to realize the negative impact her pride of her ancestors had with people of color. Even some of her social media posts were questionable and sometimes Christen thought she was reading too much into things, but when Crystal Dunn called her asking what the hell Kelley was thinking about one particular post, she was reassured it wasn’t just her._

_With how fans had recently turned against her and called her out for her behavior, Kelley had become quieter and a little bitter. Their friendship was certainly strained, yet she was a bit surprised for her not to show her support for Tobin. Especially since they didn’t know if she was dead or alive._

It hurt that Kelley wasn’t here. Her and Tobin were close. 

Christen began to feel she would explode, she wanted to be alone, she wanted to just sit on the balcony and stare out at the sky. 

Then Becky squatted down in front of her. 

“Chris,” she had asked and Christen seeing how Becky’s eyes were red rimmed from her prior tears shed, “do you have Tobin’s phone on your iCloud?” 

Yes, she had. 

Becky’s eyes grew steely with determination when Christen handed over the device and she swiftly retreated back to the kitchen table. The room was relatively quiet while the women at the table worked. 

Then it erupted. 

“She could be out there,” Kling observed with shock. 

“We should go look,” Christine advised with concern. 

“Christen, come look at this,” Becky urged. 

Christen’s feet dragged her to the table, her stomach lurching with nausea. Christine gave up her seat and stood behind her with her hands on her shoulders. A map was on the screen showing a satellite view of a heavily forested area with a twisting two lane road. Becky used the tip of a pen to point to a red circle on the middle of a road. 

“That is where Tobin’s phone is coming up,” she stated. Then she pulled the view out and pointed to another red dot. “That is where the crash occurred.” 

Christen could only look at the screen and then Becky, not comprehending what was happening. 

“Meghan is on the phone with the detective right now,” Becky stated evenly. 

“We’re going out to look,” Christine said from behind her and squeezed her shoulders gently. “She could be out there, if she jumped out of the car,” 

That stuck. She moved to stand up, but Christine kept her seated with pressure on her shoulders. “You need to stay here,” she had instructed, “man the phones.” 

She nodded. Parted of her wanted to go search. Needed to go search. Needed to do _something_ resembling making an effort to find the truth. The other part of her was shutting down. Emotionally exhausted. Physically exhausted. 

Reason dictated she needed to stay. 

In silence Christen watched as the group assembled quickly formed a plan. Phone calls were made, messages relayed and then the soccer players were gone with only Becky and Kling remaining. The quiet was unnerving. 

Christen studied the screen, the heavy foliage noted. It would be so dark out there. She had closed her eyes, trying to will Tobin to hear her, “Come back to me, my love,” she projected silently into the ether, “our story isn’t over yet, I need you. I love you.” 

She left the table and returned to the couch and snuggled into the corner, needing to curl up. Her thoughts had wandered quickly to the possibilities of this new development. 

Tobin might not be the one lying on a metal table in a cooler in the morgue. 

Tobin could be lying dead on the roadside. 

Tobin could be out there in the woods, wandering around injured. 

Tobin could be alive.

XXXX


	4. Action

.

“Everyone has a mask and a vest?” John, head of Thorns security holds up a facemask and a yellow reflective vest, one of the many taken from their stash for game day volunteers and staff. “Flashlights?” 

The group nods collectively, itching to get moving. These are soccer players, they know all about patience but, the truth of it is, they are women of action. Players from the Thorns and Utah Royals have come together, plus staff from both teams. Any missing player would result in this turnout, but hearing the mystery of how Tobin disappeared, knowing there is a body in the morgue that could possibly be her, yet this new idea of her being alive since her phone is pinging on the same road the accident occurred has them needing to do something. These soccer players are optimists and the Thorns love Tobin and the Royals love Christen and most of the players actually love both of them, so this crowd is no surprise. 

The plan is for the group to travel to the site where Tobin’s phone is supposed to be. Since they don’t know if the vehicle Tobin was in was travelling east or west when the phone got on the ground, the group will search both sides of the road in both directions, with an emphasis on coming towards the accident site. It’s estimated that the phone is about three miles from where the accident occurred. 

The group is assembled in the Thorns team room, John up at the whiteboard, a basic diagram drawn with Xs for the vehicles and where they’ll park, how the search will be done and what to do if Tobin is found. He has been in communication with the Police and they would send a couple of cars to help with traffic to keep them safe.  
Pierre Soubrier, Thorns Head Athletic Trainer and Bailey Torrez, a team trainer are in attendance, both armed with their medical kits and somber expressions of their faces. They’ll remain in two separate vehicles, so they can reach the searchers quickly. 

Once the game plan is laid out and everyone understands their role, they move out. 

XXXX

“This is fucking insane!” Lindsey Horan exclaims from the backseat, “I can’t believe we’re doing this!” 

A.D. Franch is at the wheel, nodding as she speaks. “I’m praying Tobin got out of the car before,” she clears her throat, “before, you know,” she finishes quietly. 

“How did the crash happen?” Kat Reynolds asks, she’s squeezed in the backseat between Lindsey and goalkeeper coach Nadine Angerer. Christine Sinclair is in the front passenger seat. 

“The cops said that Tobin’s car clipped a car coming from the other direction at the turn and spun out and rear ended a truck. It burst into flames instantly and rolled over a few times off the road and into the woods a bit.” Christine informs them, her voice thick with emotion. “They figured it was going at a high rate of speed,” 

“Fuck,” Kat mutters in the silence as they all visualize the horror of the crash. 

“Did they look around for Tobin there?” Lindsey asks, the horrible thought entering her head that Tobin could be lying there, injured and forgotten. 

“Yes,” Nadine and Christine answer in unison. 

A.D. slows the vehicle, braking when the Thorns van in front of them slows. “Why would she be all the way out here?” she questions. 

“Maybe whoever was in the car with her was taking her somewhere,” Christine speculates, “they found a gun in the car,” she mentions darkly, “It really sounds that Tobin could have been carjacked.” 

They drive on in silence, all of them in their own worlds as the miles pass by. 

XXXX

“Thanks, Daddy,” Christen sniffles, “we should know for certain tomorrow after they look at the dental records,” she explains. She listens as her Dad speaks, “Okay,” she nods, “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she sighs, “Love you,” she ends the call and tosses her phone on her lap, “He’s coming up here in the morning,” she says to Becky and Kling, “he insisted.” 

Becky nods sympathetically and Kling looks up from her phone, “Sinc just texted that they’ve arrived and found Tobin’s phone. It might still work,” she says hopefully, as if Tobin’s phone not being demolished means Tobin might be alive. 

These next few hours will be brutal, Christen thinks to herself. Cindy Heath and her daughters and son are flying in tomorrow. Tobin’s Dad is coming as well. Channing is trying to get a flight, Tyler is on her way now. She should be here in an hour. 

At least I’ll be surrounded by family when they tell me the body is Tobin, she thinks glumly, at least we’ll all know at the same time and I won’t have to call them and tell them. She begins to cry again, wondering how in the world she has any tears remaining in her body at this point. She leans against Becky, feeling a comforting arm around her shoulder, crying harder with the thought she may never feel Tobin hug her again. 

XXXX


	5. Taken

.

“Yeah, Ma,” Tobin says, giving a nod and flashing a peace sign to the security guard at gate of the players’ lot as she drives in, “let’s start thinking about Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years’ okay? Chris is stressing out about it,” she sighs, “I think it has to do with her Mom,” she adds quietly. 

“Honey,” her Mom says sympathetically, “it’s going to take some time,” 

“I know,” Tobin says, her voice low and laced with hurt and worry, “it’s just that she couldn’t really explain it and then she jumped all over me about it,” 

“Sometimes we can’t articulate those feelings, sweetie,” Cindy advises, “grief does funny things to people,” 

“I know,” Tobin repeats, “and I understand, I mean I try my best,” her voice softens as she parks the car, “I just feel bad that Christen is so anxious about it,” she says, “I just… feel like I’m failing her,” She shuts her car off and unbuckles her seatbelt. 

“Tobin,” her Mom gently chastises her, “you’re not failing her,” she says earnestly, “you’re just struggling to understand and read her signals, it happens. You’ll be fine,” 

“You’re right,” Tobin sighs again, “I gotta go,” she says hurriedly, “meeting’s in five,” 

“We can be flexible and do whatever you think Christen needs,” her Mom offers sweetly, “holidays are hard, we understand.” 

“Thanks ma,” Tobin says heartfully. 

“Love you honey and I’ll talk to you soon,” her Mom says sweetly. 

“Love ya, Ma,” Tobin signs off and moves to exit her vehicle. She hears a soft slap and looks down to find her wallet has fallen out of her hoodie pocket. She picks it up and leans into the car and flips open the center console and drops it in. She shuts her door, clicking her remote to lock the vehicle as she walks towards the entrance. She puts on her facemask, scrunching her face at the acrid scent of smoke in the air from the forest fires. The sky is a hazy orangish glow at this time of the day. It never truly gets dark anymore and the game on Sunday is subject to being cancelled if they don’t get the rain that’s been forecasted for tonight. She hopes they play but hopes the rain comes even more.  
She wishes Christen had waited to bring this whole holiday thing up after her meeting, she frowns, not five minutes before she had to leave. It was just really poor timing and it caught her off guard and she hopes Chris doesn’t think she was blowing it off. She prays Chris isn’t at home worrying about it right now, but she feels like she is. She’s probably out on the balcony, trying to calm herself now. 

She’s not a third of the way to the building when she’s approached by a women, who is waving as she walks up. 

“Hi, Tobin?” she asks rather timidly. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Tobin nods, slowing her walking pace and wondering how a fan got in here. 

“You need to come with me,” the woman states with authority. 

“Uh, who are you?” Tobin questions, stopping to look at her. She was much shorter than her, maybe just five feet tall and dressed in jeans and an older style Thorns hoodie. Her mask doesn’t let Tobin get a good look at her and she’s wearing a black Re beanie. Tobin gets the impression she’s pretty young, maybe in her early twenties or so. 

“I have Christen and if you want to see her,” the woman says succinctly, pulling a pistol from her hoodie and keeping it close it her body so it’s not obviously showing if someone were to look, “you need to come with me.” 

Tobin blinks, “What?” she repeats in shock, as if her ears didn’t catch what she just said. 

“If you don’t come with me,” the woman repeats sharply, “you’ll never see Christen again.” 

“I just left her a few minutes ago,” Tobin is confused. What is she talking about, she wonders. 

“That’s where my partner comes in,” The woman smiles slyly, “the more you wait, the worse it will be for her,” she says, “my partner isn’t very patient and doesn’t listen to  
directions very well,” 

Tobin’s mouth goes dry, “What do you mean?” she questions, feeling the blood rush from her face, a knot forming in her stomach as she fills with a sense of dread. 

“I mean,” she gestures with a flick of the gun, “we go back to your car, “she says menacingly, “and if you don’t, I’ll shoot you right now, here, in this parking lot,” waving it towards her again, “and Christen will suffer a horrible, painful death.” 

Tobin is frozen in place, unsure what to do. She glances around the parking lot, looking for security but she’s too far from the entrance. There’s nobody walking around. 

Tobin swallows and nods, turning as the woman follows her. “I’m driving,” the stranger states rather coldly from behind her, “get in the passenger seat.” 

Tobin nods, pulling her remote out to unlock the black Audi. They get in and Tobin hands the keys to the woman who starts the vehicle, puts it in gear and pulls out of the lot. 

“Give me your phone,” she orders as she drives, the gun in her left hand that’s resting on her lap with the barrel pointed at Tobin. “Slowly,” the woman orders as Tobin reaches into her pocket. 

Tobin’s mind is spinning as she tries to figure out is going on. “Where is Christen?” she asks. 

“No questions,” the woman states, dropping the phone in between her legs, “no talking.” 

They exit the lot swiftly and drive in silence, entering the expressway quickly. Tobin removed her mask and has her hands locked together in her lap, praying fervently for Christen. When she’s finishes pleading with God for Christen’s safety, she wonders how the partner of this woman next to her in the car could manage to convince Chris to leave the condo. 

Tobin doesn’t have answers and she feels as if she may never get them. 

That terrifies her. 

XXXX


	6. Escape

.

Tobin is silently keeping track of where they are heading, noting the road they’re on and direction they’re traveling, curious as to the why they’re moving south along the Willamette River. The area becomes heavily wooded with no houses or businesses in sight and Tobin senses they’re cutting through one of the state parks whose name she can’t recall. She’s been this way only a few times, usually when her and Chris take a day to get lost in the car and enjoy time with another and she doesn’t really pay attention to those details. 

It’s unnerving to sit there in the silence next to the woman as the miles click by through the winding tree lined road. The woman had turned off the main road some time ago, making a sharp left at a crazy intersection. This road, one Tobin has never been down before and didn’t catch the name of, is even more secluded and Tobin hasn’t seen more than two other cars on it. The trees have enveloped them, the headlights showing the two lonely lanes with bushes and trees on each side with the air hazy from the smoke. It’s unnaturally dark here, combined with the lingering smoke to make it appear closer to sunset. The interior clock on the console shows it’s only 5:20, which shocks Tobin because   
she feels they’ve been driving for over an hour and it’s become so dark so quick out here in the woods. 

She recognizes her phone chirping and Tobin glances over to the strange woman’s lap, seeing a text notification from Nadine Angerer pop up. Okay, she thinks, they know I’m not there. Maybe they’ll ask the parking lot attendants if they saw me. It would be weird if I parked and then left. That’s a weird thing to do, so maybe they’ll know something is wrong, she reasons. 

But what about Christen, she wonders. How did this other person get her out of the condo, she wonders. Fuck, she curses silently, Chris was already really anxious, it might not have taken much to convince her. Her guard would have been down. That other person could have told her the same thing- she would have to go with her to see me. Someone could have convinced her to leave. Fuck. 

Her phone goes off again and sees now Christen is texting her. _Baby, where are you?_ she squints to read. More messages come from Chris. Her phone is making noise non-stop with notifications. It sounds with a phone call with Christen’s ringtone. Renewed dread fills Tobin. 

“You don’t have her,” she accuses the stranger driving her car, “you never did,” 

The woman laughs coldly, “Had to get you in the car somehow,” she says as she switches hands on the steering wheel. Her right hand is now holding the gun and loosely holding the steering wheel. The woman presses the button to lower the driver’s side window with her left hand and then she holds up Tobin’s still ringing phone. “Guess you won’t need this anymore,” she chuckles at her as she chucks the phone out of the car. 

The relief Tobin’s feels for realizing Christen is safe is now replaced with the horror that her own life is still very much in danger and if she manages to get out of this, her phone, her only hope for help, is gone. She feels so stupid to so willingly go with this woman, to believe what she said, to not put up some kind of a fight. She should have questioned her more, not just blindly accepted what she was telling her. But she reasons, she does have a gun and was pointing it at me. 

_I have got to figure out how to get out of this,_ she thinks, _there’s no way I can talk her out of letting me go._

Keeping her body still, she considers her options. She glances at the dashboard, seeing they’re traveling around sixty miles an hour. To jump out of the car at this speed would certainly seriously injure her, maybe even kill her. Fighting for the gun or the steering wheel would probably result in her getting shot or making the car crash. She has to think fast, she doesn’t want to be further from the main road. She has to do something that is unexpected and yet quick, so this crazy woman doesn’t have a chance to react and shoot her. 

She unclicks her seatbelt. 

“What are you doing? Put that back on!” the woman angrily demands, her eyes boring into her. 

“My foot itches,” Tobin replies with annoyance, sliding the strap off and bending forward to scratch the non-existent itch. 

She sits back and takes a deep breath, then in one swift movement, she reaches for the console, pushing the gearshift into Park and then yanking back the emergency brake, sending the tires screeching on the pavement. She’s thrown forward as she hits the door lock, pushes open the door and throws herself out of the still moving vehicle. 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, things are moving along, huh? I mean, isn't it just like Tobin to throw herself out of a moving vehicle? 
> 
> Thanks so much for the kudos and comments- I appreciate them very much. 
> 
> How are feeling about these short chapters? Usually I write much longer ones, but i felt like being much more direct and short. I honestly don't mean to have just about every chapter end in a cliffhanger- it's just how it works out. I'm all about the drama in this one. 
> 
> I reason that I'll be updating very quickly so as not to leave y'all hanging very long at all. 
> 
> That said- feedback anyone?


	7. Angst

.

“Chrissy!” Tyler exclaims, letting her overnight bag drop to the floor and trotting over to embrace her sister, “Oh my God!” 

Christen clings to her, the tears coming immediately. She’s been able to keep it together for a little while but now seeing her sister has just made her fall apart all over again. She’s ugly crying, the tension and grief and anxiety she’s been living with these past hours are spilling over. Tyler is guiding her back to the couch, the couch her and Tobin would spend hours on, cuddling, watching TV, working on Re-Inc. projects. Being intimate. 

She resists, shaking her head, “No,” she says forcefully, her voice thick and raw, pulling Tyler towards the kitchen table, “I can’t sit there anymore,” she sobs, breaking free of her sister’s grasp, bringing her hands to hold the side of her head. She spreads her arms out wide, “First Mom and now this?” she cries out loudy, “Ty, how I can deal with this? I can’t take this,” she shakes her head, “I can’t lose Tobin,” she sobs, “I can’t,” 

Tyler wraps Christen up in a hard hug again, “I know,” she states, “you’re so strong,” she says forcefully, “you have to be strong for her.” 

Becky comes to stand beside them, “She could be out there,” she says quietly, “safe, maybe hiding,” she places her hand on the back of Christen’s head, “You need to be strong for her right now,” she reminds her, “we don’t know for certain.” 

Tyler looks over at Becky with a questioning look. 

“There’s a chance it might not be Tobin they pulled from the car,” she explains. 

Tyler’s eyes grow big, “Really?” She was on a plane and Christen hadn’t let anyone know of this development, not wanting to give anyone false hope if it turned out badly. 

Becky nods, throwing a glance over to Kling who is on her phone. “The Thorns and Royals are out looking for her with the police,” 

Christen is trying to compose herself yet again, she’s wiping her eyes, looking around for a Kleenex. She pulls out a few tissues, wiping the snot from her upper lip and blowing her nose as her chest heaves. A headache is coming strong, her eyes are burning and her throat feels raw. She lets herself sink onto a kitchen chair, holding her head in her hands.  
Tyler sits down next to her, scooting her chair close so she can wrap an arm around Christen’s shoulders, “What do you need right now?” she asks her, their heads close together. 

“Tobin,” Christen cries pitifully against her sister’s shoulder. 

“Okay, well, we can’t do that, just yet,” Tyler responds kindly as she looks her over, her mouth scrunched up as she evaluates her sister as she calms down. She sets the box of Kleenex in front of her and rubs her back as she Christen wipes at her face. After Christen wipes away her tears and begins to breathe normally, Tyler stands up, letting her hand linger on Christen’s shoulder for a moment. “You need to eat,” she announces. 

Becky and Kling share a look, they’ve tried multiple times in these hours to get her to eat something, anything. 

Tyler moves to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to survey the items available. Kling approaches her and offers to make a smoothie thinking something on the light side would be good and maybe Christen would be more agreeable to drink something rather than eat it and soon the two are preparing one for each of them. They could all use something in their bellies. 

Becky joins Christen at the table, sitting down across from her and gives her sad half smile. She stretches her hand out across the table and Christen takes hold of it. “I’m so sorry this is happening,” Becky says somberly, “I can’t even imagine how you must feel right now,” 

Christen gives her a sorrowful look, “I feel like part of me is missing,” she replies and then sighs. 

Becky nods and squeezes her hand, thinking that’s exactly how she would feel if she were in Christen’s shoes right now and her boyfriend Zola was missing. 

A few minutes later, they both withdraw their hands as Kling comes over and sets a glass in front of each of them. They both of them eye the not so eye pleasing coral colored contents suspiciously and when they make eye contact and they both laugh out loud. 

“Hey!” Kling frowns at their reaction, but the corners of her mouth are upturned, “It’s delicious,” she defends proudly, “I guarantee it!” 

“This looks like you obliterated a salmon,” Christen observes with a frown, eying it with trepidation. She sniffs it cautiously. 

“Ew,” Becky shivers, sticking her tongue out. It’s juvenile but she thinks they need a break of some sort from this awful cloud of dread they’ve been under tonight. Tyler comes over, her forehead furrowed as she suspiciously sniffs the concoction in her glass and shakes her head. That makes Becky and Christen giggle. 

“I know exactly what’s in this and I’m not sure how this will taste,” Tyler declares as she eyes the contents in her glass. 

Kling sits down with her glass and eyes them all, “Just try it,” she says, “trust me.” They all take a sip at the same time, eyes darting at one another. It’s quiet. 

Finally, Becky looks at all of them and then directly at Kling. “This is…” she considers with another sip, “actually quite good.” 

Christen nods, “But please, don’t tell us what’s in it,” 

Tyler starts to laugh, making them all join in. 

“Doubters,” Kling smirks at them through her laughs. 

It was just what they needed- a release from the hours of tension. 

Then Christen’s phone rings, indicating a call and all laughter dries up immediately. Becky leaps from her chair and springs the few feet to the couch to retrieve it. She hands it quickly to Christen who sees it’s an unknown number. Her stomach tightens up. 

Tension fills the air around the four as Becky, Tyler and Kling watch as Christen swipes to answer the call. 

“Hello?” she answers. “Yes, this is Christen.” She listens for a moment, nodding. “Uh huh,” she nods, listening again, “uh huh.” She listens some more and then straightens. “What does that mean?” A look of shock registers in her face and fresh tears spring from her eyes. “Yes, I understand,” she says, her voice trembling, “thank you.” She listens again. 

“We’ll talk in the morning,” she’s nodding again, “thank you for calling.” She sets her phone down and he expectant faces around her. “That was Detective Moore,” she explains, her voice shaky, “the coroner stated the body they found in the car is only five foot one at the max. Also, the body doesn’t show signs of previous broken bones like Tobin had. They will do a dental comparison tomorrow morning,” she says, a glimmer of hope in her eyes appearing, “but the coroner is very confident it’s not Tobin.”

Christen heaves a sigh of relief as she places her phone on the table. Then freezes as a fresh round of overwhelming concern grips her. 

Where. Is. Tobin? 

XXXX


	8. Freedom

.

_Cover your head and roll!_ Tobin tells herself, raising her hands and gripping the back of her head as she leaves the moving vehicle. A series of pops sound and Tobin feels the impact of something hitting her hard in her side three times while she’s in the air. _Holy fuck, she shot me!_ Tobin realizes as her right shoulder hits the pavement, jarring her as her wrist slams against the hard surface protecting her head from the ground, making her cry out in pain. She rolls away from the road on a diagonal, feeling the smooth asphalt change into gravel, her left knee catching and sliding as she moves.

The tires have stopped screeching, Tobin doesn’t know where the woman is, but she’s too busy trying to keep her head covered, squeezing her eyes clamped shut as she half slides, half rolls over the gravel. Every rotation makes her groan in pain. Rocks are bouncing up and hitting her in the face and her arms. She feels the knees of her jeans tearing, her hoodie pulling against her neck and tightening around her arms with the force. 

Suddenly, she’s on grass and then a slope and she’s no longer rolling but sliding wildly down the slope, moving faster than before as branches of bushes and foliage slap against her. She hits a small tree that sends her pivoting in a different direction. Finally, her momentum slows, allowing her to reach out and grab at the ground, sliding on her stomach, feet first down, grimacing and crying out in pain as she goes over the uneven ground. 

She finally stops, out of breath and in whimpering with pain with gasping every exhale, feeling as if she’s bleeding everywhere. Everything hurts. She’s panting in the darkness, suddenly aware the woman is calling for her. She does her best to slow her breathing, trying not to breath so loudly through her nose, her mouth clamped shut, trying to swallow down the panicked sounds of her shuddering exhales. She tries to keep her body as still as possible, but she’s trembling all over. 

Tobin has never felt sheer terror as she does now as she attempts to hide from the woman. 

“Tobin!” an angry voice yells from above her, “Show yourself!” 

The voice seems like it’s off to her right and Tobin takes a risk and slowly raises her head to get a look. She can see the dark silhouette of the small woman, looking down into the foliage. Carefully and ever so slowly, Tobin pulls at the hood of her sweatshirt, thanking God it’s a dark color and praying it would provide some cover as she slips it over her head. 

The woman is walking parallel along the road, soon standing directly straight up from where she is, although there’s a distance of about twenty-five from where Tobin has slid down the embankment. Tobin freezes in her position, keeping her head still and up just a bit to see what she’s doing. She’s terrified, breathing through her mouth, exhaling shaky short breaths since it’s quieter than through her nose. She feels like she’s shaking the bushes and plants surrounding her uncontrollable trembling. _Don’t come down, don’t come down here,_ she chants in her mind. 

The woman is using the flashlight on her phone to attempt to see but is growing frustrated from the weak light. 

“You better be dead down there,” the woman shouts angrily, “’cause if you’re not and when I find you,” she threatens, “you’ll wish you were never born!” 

Tobin watches as the shadowy figure retreats, lifting her head higher when she hears the slam of the door and she sees the headlights of her car make a careless U-turn from the lights flashing on the trees and hears the engine or transmission not sounding so great. When the vehicle accelerates, it whines and knocks terribly, but it shoots off back the direction they had been coming from, accelerating faster as it leaves Tobin’s view.

Tobin lets out aloud exhale, her chest bursting from holding it in, now feeling even more pain from her injuries. She lays there for a moment, catching her breath and crying with fear and pain. 

It takes her a few minutes to get herself under control. Her mind is been going in ten different directions, but her most overriding thought is getting back to Christen. She needs to know she’s okay. She has to be positive, she doesn’t trust anything the woman said, but the fear still lingers. She needs to know for certain. 

Tobin is finally breathing somewhat normal enough to take some calming breaths, her ribs pinching with each inhale and exhale. They’re probably bruised, she notes to herself. She forces herself to just lie there and rest on her belly, leaning her left elbow holding her top half upright. Her right hand is useless and throbbing. She skims the length of her right forearm, praying no bones are sticking through her skin. She doesn’t think so. There’s no blood on her fingers when she lightly runs her hand under the torn sleeve of her hoodie. Her wrist is swollen and there’s a couple of knots on it, but thankfully no blood. 

She’s pretty positive her right wrist is broken from hitting the pavement with the skin on her forearm being so tight and the knots and swelling already. It hurts terribly but she realizes it saved her from a serious head injury or even death. Her right shoulder aches, both of her knees feel scraped up as well as her elbows. She lets her hand move to her side, her fingers going under her hoodie and t-shirt, awkwardly twisting and feeling her skin where she felt those three impacts. Nothing feels wet, she doesn’t feel any bullet holes at the three tender spots on her side. She brings her hand back to her mouth, tentatively licking her index finger, she doesn’t taste blood. 

Her head hurts but she doesn’t feel concussed. She does feel a cut on her cheek and now tastes the blood that’s dribbling from her nose. Her skin feels tight, like she’s scraped her face somewhere. She doesn’t have time to think about it. She needs to start moving. She doesn’t want to be near this area when the woman comes back. 

She knows she needs to follow the direction her car went and go back to the main road. The main road is her best chance to find someone to help her or she’ll just walk north all the way back into civilization. She’s pretty certain if she goes south, she’ll be in the woods for a long time. She’s scared to walk along the road, not knowing when the woman will appear and that would be the worst case scenario- her flagging down a car for help and it turns out to be the crazy woman. She’s not super keen on waiting it out here in the dark woods overnight and waiting for daylight, especially since it’s getting a bit cooler out and she’s not sure about her injuries. Not to mention the smoke she’s breathing in. 

The smell of smoke is in the air and although the sun hasn’t set, it’s getting dark. It’s eerie out here. The sky with this hazy orangish tint with a lower level of grey smoke. She coughs and it makes her wince. Her ribs are sore and coughing somehow pulls at her right shoulder. Maybe she dislocated it against the road. 

She kneels up, thankful she’s not dizzy, so she’s pretty sure she doesn’t have a concussion. Carefully she places her right hand into her hoodie pocket to help hold her wrist in place. She blinks rapidly, letting her eyes adjust to her surroundings. Even with this weird lighting, it’s pretty bright so she can see the outlines of the trees and shadows. It’s not going to be easy, walking on this steep angle. She’ll have to be very careful of her footing as she goes. She down to her left and sees how the slope steepens and doesn’t seem to end. She doesn’t want to go any lower than she is, she needs to be certain she’s following the road and doesn’t want to risk straying off into the forest. 

The forest is alive with noises, frogs and insects and branches cracking with larger animals moving the woods. Tobin isn’t sure what really lives out here, probably some deer and foxes and coyotes, maybe some cougars. She doesn’t think she’s heard of bears being this close to the city. She doesn’t want to find out. She chuckles dryly at her ignorance of what lives out here, making her feel like a city girl. Still, she thinks she’ll grab a stick if she can find one in the dark. Doesn’t hurt to have something to defend herself and maybe it will help keep herself upright as she walks. 

Slowly she stands and begins to move. 

XXXX


	9. Searching

.

“Tobin!” Christine Sinclair shouts out in the darkness, her voice muffled by her mask, “Tobin, can you hear me?” she shines her flashlight around in the woods. 

Their group is fanned out, each one remaining about fifteen feet apart as they work their section. It’s the third section they’ve walked on the embarkment and they’re growing disheartened. 

“Okay you guys,” Lindsey calls out, out of breath, “head up to the road. A.D.’s got water for us, we’ll take a little break.” 

The group makes their way up the tangled brush to the side of the road to where A.D., who is still on crutches from her knee injury and therefore only driving, is passing out water bottles to them through her car window. 

Sinc, Lindsey, Nadine and Kat are standing next to the car, wondering if they’ll ever find Tobin when they see the Thorns van pull past them and make a U-turn and park a few yards in front of A.D.’s car. Bailey exits the passenger door and approaches them. 

“Hey guys,” she says with a subdued tone, “you all hanging in there?” 

Sinc nods gravely and looks down the road, curious to marks on the gravel, illuminated by the headlights of the van. Wordlessly she walks towards it, flicking on her flashlight to get a better look. It looks like something slid across from the blacktop into the gravel. 

“What’s wrong?” Lindsey’s voice comes from behind her, making Sinc jump. 

“Look,” she shines her light on the area, “doesn’t that look weird?” she questions, training her light to follow the slide. They both see how the foliage is tamped down as it disappears down the embankment. 

“What are you guys looking at?” Bailey asks, making the two jump. 

“Check this out,” Sinc says as she trains her flashlight on the slide and how it goes into the underbrush. 

“Pierre!” Bailey calls out immediately, “Come look!” 

Pierre exits the van to join them. “Let’s take a look,” he suggests as Sinc steps towards the greenery. 

“Hey, look!” Kat yells, making the stop and turn. 

Kat is facing standing on the roadway, her flashlight trained on the pavement. “Skidmarks!” she exclaims. The little group joins her, standing on the desolate road, except for their vehicles parked on side of the road with hazard lights flashing, looking out to where she’s trained her flashlight. Lindsey walks to where the black tire residue is the thickest. 

“It’s like someone slammed on the brakes,” she comments, looking up at them, “do you think this could be related?” 

They all nod, “We have to check this out,” Nadine states, crouching down to run a finger on the skidmark. “It’s fresh,” she announces with surprise, holding her index finger up that’s darkened with the burnt rubber. 

“I’ll call John and have him come down,” Pierre says, pulling his phone from his pocket, “you guys go look,” 

Lindsey is by the car, explaining to A.D. what they found. 

“Guys,” Bailey’s serious tone halts them from heading down the embankment, “look,” she says quietly, stepping towards them, “we don’t know what we might find,” she cautions gravely, “Tobin could be badly injured,” she says and swallows, “or worse. So, if she’s lying there, don’t touch her or move her until me or Pierre can get there, okay?” 

It sobers the four soccer players and they nod silently. 

They five head down the embankment, flashlights shining on the beaten down plants and the area around. They call out for Tobin as they carefully pick their way down and out of sight from the road. 

“It really looks like someone was lying here,” Bailey states as they stand on the sloped side, looking at the area of tamped down foliage. 

“But where did she go?” Kat asks, shining her light around the area. 

“This way?” Lindsey suggests, sweeping her flashlight to the west while fingering the broken off stem of a weed. 

“That looks like a path,” Sinc says as they view the trampled down line in front of them. She considers for a moment, “How about you guys follow this,” she says, “and I’ll go up on the road and jog that way and call for her up there,” 

Bailey nods, “She would have had a head start on us,” she reasons, “sounds good.” 

Sinc quickly climbs up the embankment and tells Pierre and A.D. what they found and what they’re doing. Then she’s off at a quick pace, yelling out for Tobin. 

XXXX

“A.D. just texted me,” Kling announces as she looks up from her phone, “they found skidmarks in the road and it looks like someone went down the embankment.” 

Christen gasps and clutches Tyler’s forearm at the news. 

Another chirp goes off and Kling reads it aloud. “They’re following a trail, they think maybe someone was walking through the woods along the road.” 

“Maybe Tobin got out of the car,” Kling vocalizes what they are all thinking.

“If she got out, why wouldn’t she be on the side of the road?” Tyler wonders aloud. 

“Maybe she’s afraid to be on the road,” Becky proposes, “maybe she doesn’t feel safe out in the open.” 

“She wouldn’t know the woman wrecked her car,” Kling reasons, “maybe the crazy bitch said she’d find her.” 

The three speaking turn to look at Christen. 

“Chris?” Tyler questions cautiously. “This is good news,” 

Christen shakes her head, “I can’t get my hopes up,” she confesses, “if they don’t find her, I don’t know what I’ll do,” she says, her chin is quivering with emotion. She stands up abruptly, “I need to be alone,” she announces, “will you please tell me if they find her? I just can’t sit here any longer,” 

They nod understandingly, feeling awful for her. 

Christen makes sure to gently shut the bedroom door after herself and then she turns to survey the room. Tobin had made the bed today, like she usually does since she rises a little later than her, but today she made sure to put all of the pretty pillows Christen can’t help herself in purchasing all up along their sleep pillows. It looks nice. She never told her she had noticed it today, she frowns and her chin quivers and eyes water once more. 

She sighs deeply, aimlessly moving around the room, stopping at the closet. She takes a step in and pulls the blue Re sweatshirt off the interior doorknob. Tobin had worn it today until she actually dressed for her meeting tonight. She slips it over head, pulling the collar to her nose to breathe deeply of Tobin’s scent. She looks around and finds the hoodie Tobin wore yesterday and tossed in her clean clothes pile. Tobin is big believer in that jeans and hoodies and sweatshirts and flannels all can be worn multiple times before needing to be thrown in the wash. Unless she spills food of it. 

Christen grabs the hoodie, hugging it close and carelessly flops on the bed, on Tobin’s side with her head on Tobin’s pillow and Tobin’s scent surrounding her as she cries. 

XXXX


	10. Fleeing

.

Tobin hears another car slowing down on the road above her and she freezes for a moment, waiting to determine if it’s stopping or not. When it continues on, she lets out a breath, thankful it’s not the crazy woman returning to terrorize her. 

Her wrist is absolutely throbbing right now. It started a while ago and she carefully slid her hand out of the hoodie pocket, bring it close to her chest, keeping her hand elevated across her chest. It hasn’t helped much. Her right shoulder aches from the impact of hitting the car and now from tensing to hold her poor wrist in place. Her knees feel as if they are on fire from the being scraped up as she moves as cautiously as she can in the darkness of the woods. Her eyes are beginning to strong from the smoke and it feels as if her contacts are sticking to her eyeballs. 

It’s begun to rain lightly, she’s not getting very wet but enough that her back feels damp through her hoodie. So that’s great, she thinks sarcastically. Actually, they do need the rain. Practically the whole state is on fire or affected by the fires. I wonder if we’ll get the game in on Sunday, she ponders. She deliberately moves slowly and picks her way through the woods, taking time to make sure her footing is good before moving forward. She really doesn’t want to wipe out. She knows that tripping and falling will hurt really bad. 

She has no clue how long she’s been out here, she’s getting pretty thirsty. She spies a fallen tree and decides to sit for a minute and take a rest. She wonders how far she’s travelled away from where she left the car. She turns her head abruptly when another slew of cars pass by. They don’t slow down so she relaxes a little. She wonders if she should make her way up to the road. She’s not sure what to do. Maybe she does have a slight concussion. She rubs her temple, suddenly feeling tired. 

“I’ve got to keep moving,” she mumbles to herself, regretfully hoisting herself up from the tree trunk, “I can’t fall asleep out here,” She wipes at her face, wincing when she unintentionally rubs against the scrap on her chin. “Fuck,” she curses, wondering just how messed up she is from her injuries. She knows she’s super lucky being able to walk away from jumping out of a moving car, but she’s feeling it now. 

She takes two steps and her feet slide on the now muddy ground, left hand reaching out for a nearby young sapling, grabbing at it to prevent falling. It bends dangerously low, making Tobin think she’s going to fall on her ass and slide but then it stops and allows her to get her balance. “Shit,” she huffs, her heart wildly beating. When she moves again, she makes sure her footing is certain. 

XXXX

“Tobin!” Sinc calls out as she trots along the road, “Tobin, can you hear me?” She slows down, half turning to see she’s about three hundred yards from the van and A.D.’s car. She lowers her mask and uses her hands to cup her mouth, “Tobin!” 

Unconsciously she leans to side to listen for a reply. She doesn’t hear anything. She begins to run again. 

XXXX

Christen doesn’t sleep, she can’t, her mind is too busy. She’s comfortable, curled on her bed with the scent of Tobin surrounding her. She doesn’t know if it’s because of that but she suddenly feels a calm come over her. She realizes, Tobin isn’t dead. She feels it. She can sense it. 

Sit abruptly sits up, still hugging the sweatshirt while she closes her eyes and begins to breathe deeply as she meditates. She wants to center herself because when they find Tobin, she’s going to have to be strong and calm since she’s certain Tobin will be anything but that. 

“Tobin,” she whispers, “feel my energy, love,” she feels herself begin to relax, “you can do it, find your way back to me, sweetheart.” 

Her mind slips into her meditative state, freeing itself of stress and focusing solely on Tobin and her safety. She does her best to send her energy, urging her to think smart and make good decisions and trust her instincts. 

When she completes her ritual, she feels refreshed. She’s still exhausted, but she feels lighter with having the deep certainty that Tobin is alive. She would know if her soulmate was dead. 

She leaves the bed, abandoning the sweatshirt she was cradling and moving to the en suite bathroom, washing her face with a warm washcloth. She lets her hair fall loose, shaking it out and breathes deeply, ready to join the others in the kitchen. 

XXXX


	11. Found

.

“Tobin!” Christine calls out, “Let’s go Heath!” She whistles loudly and begins to walk long the road. 

She thinks she hears a faint whistle in return coming from down the road a bit. “Tobin!” she yells, picking up her pace, running. She hopes it’s not just her wishful thinking. She lets out another whistle and clearly can hear a soft reply. 

She keeps running towards the noise. 

XXXX

Tobin keeps hearing someone call her name from the road. It’s a distance behind her and she’s terrified it’s the crazy woman. She comes to a halt after stumbling over a rock, pausing to rub her shin. She strains to hear the whistle over the sounds of the woods surrounding her. 

“Tobin!” she hears again, realizing it doesn’t sound like the woman’s voice. She pauses, still uncertain of who would be calling for, thinking maybe the crazy girl got her friend to come and look for her as well. She’s breathing through her mouth to be as quiet as possible as she slowly hides behind a thick tree trunk. 

She hears a “Let’s go Heath!” and then a distinct whistle. _I know that whistle,_ she realizes, _that’s Sinc. What would she be doing out here?_

Her gut tells her to whistle back with an undeniable urgency, so she does, she can’t believe it would be Sinc but she has this overwhelming feeling that it is. 

She hears another whistle, it might be a little closer to her now and she whistles back. 

The whistles keep coming closer and now she’s certain it’s the Canadian. 

“Sinc!” she yells back, her voice cracking from not speaking for while. 

“Tobin!” she hears, smiling when she recognizes the accented voice. 

“Over here,” she calls out, turning to face the road. She can see a flashlight bobbing through the underbrush at the top of the embankment. 

“Jesus, Tobin!” Sinc yells as she grows closer, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” she replies, relief flooding through her, making her eyes water. 

“Stay put,” Sinc orders, “don’t move,” she says, now standing directly above her, pulling her phone out. 

Tobin can hear her to talking to someone and telling her to get down here with everyone. Tobin notices another fallen tree and sits on the angled trunk, relief and exhaustion washing over her. She hears Sinc say something about putting her vest on the ground to indicate where she is and then Tobin hears her sliding down towards her. 

“You alright?” Sinc asks breathlessly, shining her light in Tobin’s face, making her grimace and shut her eyes. 

“Kinda banged up,” Tobin drawls tiredly, “but okay,” she replies. “Is Christen okay?” she asks earnestly. 

Sinc nods, “Yeah, she’s worried out of her mind,” 

Tobin urgently grips Sinc’s arm with her left hand, “But she’s okay?” Tobin needs confirmation.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Sinc nods again, not understanding. “Can you walk up the incline?” 

“I think so,” Tobin says slowly, getting to her feet. She takes one step and slips and Sinc grabs her shoulders to steady making her cry out in pain from her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Sinc says apologetically, “We’ll wait right here,” she instructs, “sit back down,” 

“Okay,” Tobin agrees grimacing as she sits again. 

“Where are you hurt?” Sinc asks, shining the flashlight along Tobin’s legs, sucking in air when she sees her torn up jeans and bloody knees. “You bust your arm?” 

“Wrist,” Tobin answers, “it saved me when I jumped out the car,” 

The Canadian’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. “What?” 

Tobin nods, “This woman came up to me in the parking lot,” she explains, “and she told me I had to go with her. She had a gun and was pointing it at me,” she swallows, “and she told me her partner took Chris and if I ever wanted to see her again, I had to go with her.” 

Christine nods, “I swear, Tobin,” she says genuinely, “she’s safe. It’s okay,”

Tobin nods as she exhales heavily, “Thank God,” she says, her voice low and gravelly. She thinks for a moment, “Hey, could you check my side?” she reaches slowly leans as pulls up her hoodie. Sinc pulls up the hoodie more and flashes her light and sucks in air again, “You’ve got three nasty welts there,” 

“Yeah?” Tobin asks. 

“Yeah, what happened?” Sinc pulls her hoodie down. 

“She shot me,” Tobin replies, “must not have been a real gun,”

“Sinc! Sinc!” Voices call as the sound of footsteps on gravel approaches them. 

“Over here!” She calls out, waving her flashlight around for them to see. 

Things start to move fast after that. 

XXXX

“Are you okay?” Tyler tenderly asks her sister when she appears from the bedroom. 

Christen nods, “Yeah,” she says, straightening her shoulders, “I am. I’m ready to face whatever happens.” She moves over to where Becky sits, laying a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “Thank you,” she says heartfully, bending to hug her, “I’m so grateful for you,” 

Becky pats her hand and lets it linger, “You’d do the same for me,” she replies genuinely. 

“I would,” Christen nods, “but I hope I never have to,” 

Becky looks up at her, “She’s gonna be okay,” she says, her voice full of conviction. 

“She is,” Christen agrees with the same amount of confidence, releasing her from their embrace and moving to Kling, hugging her as well, “Thank you,” she says, bending close so their heads are touching, “You’ve always been a rock for me,” 

Kling turns in her chair to hug her fiercely, “Funny,” she replies, “I always thought the same of you,” 

Christen squeezes her one more time before releasing her grip on her and stands tall, straightening her shoulders. She lets out a weighted breath, “Now we just have to wait until they call,” she says. 

They sit at the table, Christen isn’t sitting on that couch until she knows for certain what Tobin’s fate is. They talk of light topics, Christen talking about Tobin and her sudden new obsession with acquiring plants. Becky shares a light-hearted conversation she had with Tobin patiently explaining how to take care of the cutting she gave her and how excited Tobin was about it. 

Kling’s phone chirps with a new text message and she scrambles to pick it up, nearly dropping the device in her haste. She rolls her eyes and frowns when she sees who it’s from.   
“Kelley,” she mutters under her breath and everyone at the table looks away while Kling responds. “She wanted to know if there was any news,” she explains as she sets her phone back down. “I can’t believe she didn’t come here,” she angrily shakes her head as she sighs, “her and Tobin go way back, you’d think she’d have come.” 

Becky scrunches up her face, then leans back in her chair, “I think she’s scared,” she states quietly.

“Of what?” Tyler asks. She knows a bit about the strained relationship and Kelley’s seeming refusal to educate herself about social and racial justice. She does know that her and Tobin were extremely close friends. 

“Well, reality, for one,” Becky states, “we’re in our thirties and this is maybe the first time anyone we know may be a victim of a crime,” she says thoughtfully, “and maybe even be dead.” 

Christen hums as she nods, “If there’s been anyone who has remained close to who they were in college, it’s Kelley,” she states, “the emotional growth isn’t quite there,” she adds.

“Yeah, maturity has never been her thing,” Becky remarks with a smirk, “but also she might be very uncomfortable being around everyone.” she turns to look at Christen, “Does she go out with teammates socially much?”

“Some,” she nods, “but not as much as before,” she replies. “there is an unspoken tension with the team,” she informs them, “and Kelley is feeling the burn of her actions.” The other three nod, thinking of how roasted Kelley as been on social media by the fans calling to cancel her. 

“I’m being an optimist when I say this,” Becky says quietly, “but she may be rethinking everything. Her heritage and what it means, how her family celebrates it and why. What impact her family had on blacks from the beginning,” she shrugs, “She could be overwhelmed,” 

“I’d be the first to give her the benefit of the doubt,” Kling states, “but I’m pissed she didn’t come.” She high pitched voice is growing louder as she speaks, “ Tobin could be dead and she doesn’t have the decency to come here and support Chris?” she pats Christen’s arm, “I’m sure she’s not,” she looks at her carefully, “I have a good feeling about this,” she adds earnestly. 

Christen nods, understanding her point. “There isn’t any excuse for her not coming and I’m fine with it,” she says honestly, “I’ve kind of stepped back from her,” she shrugs, "we're civil," 

“I heard from some of the girls about the meetings,” Becky admits, “and they were troubled about Kelley’s attitude. From how they described a few of the meetings, Kelley may feel she was attacked for her upbringing,” she states, “she may be pissed about it. She may be embarrassed about it and not being around everyone while she tries to figure this out may be her coping mechanism.” 

“That is kind of her go to reaction,” Christen agrees with her observation. 

“She’s a smart woman,” Becky continues, “and we can only hope she finds her way to understanding what her privilege is and gain some knowledge on the racial issues we are facing.” 

“Tobin said something a while back when we were talking about her,” Cristen says quietly, “She said in the Bible there was a passage ‘Hate the sin, not the sinner,’” she says, “and I told her it was hard to do. She agreed, but related it to a situation she faces her family, and you may as well,” she glances around the table making eye contact before she continues, “Tobin has an aunt and an uncle who are very nice people, ones I’ve met many times over the years. It wasn’t until just after our engagement she told me this.” She leans back in her chair, her fingers playing with the ring Tobin had given her when she asked her to marry her. “Years ago, at a family reunion that Tobin actually could attend,” she says, “everyone was there having a good time and Tobin overheard her sister Perry having a heated discussion with their aunt and uncle. They were talking about gays and the church and they were telling Perry how all gays would go to Hell if they didn’t change the choices they’d made. Perry insisted that gays don’t have a choice, they are born that way. They wouldn’t believe it or agree with it.” 

Kling’s eyebrows are high on her forehead, her jaw set with anger. Becky looks sad and Tyler is nodding slowly. 

“Tobin said that hearing that from them broke her heart,” Christen says regretfully, “and since then her relationship with is different. She still loves them, but she isn’t as close to them as she once was.” She taps on the table with two fingers, “Now, we’re not talking about exactly the same thing,” she nods at them, “but I think it’s fair to say that’s pretty close to how we feel about Kelley right now. She’s not out there walking with the White Supremacists, but her standing and not lending her platform does speak volumes.” She turns to Tyler, “Like Mari and Thomas,” she mentions, referring to neighbors of their parents’ who are rather outspoken on all sorts of topics and Tyler nods with understanding. 

“Kelley’s never been one to clearly think how her actions have consequences,” Becky notes, “so I think she’s really feeling pressure to figure this out. By her being silent and   
ignoring it, she’s either hoping it blows over, which is sad, or she’s trying to figure it out. It takes a lot to unlearn how you were raised.” 

“I understand what you’re saying,” Kling states giving Christen and Becky a glance, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed about it.” 

“Exactly,” Becky agrees, “her not being here was terrible.” 

Christen shrugs, “She has to live with it,” she states, “especially the next time she sees Tobin.” 

All of them nod at that statement, thinking to themselves. 

Shortly after the deep discussion, Kling somehow manages to convince them they needed to take their minds off their troubles and found Tobin’s deck of Uno cards. Christen had already won two games and managed to laugh a few times with them as she mercilessly played her cards. 

Almost two hours had gone by from A.D.’s last text when Kling’s phone chirps again. She pulls it out and reads, her eyebrows going high and mouth opening slightly. 

“What is it?” Becky elbows her impatiently. 

“They found Tobin,” Kling looks up, “she’s okay, walking, but busted up. Sinc will video chat after they assess her.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Tyler proclaims, clapping her hands together. 

Christen has a hand on her chest, thanking the universe and Tobin’s God for this outcome. She’s still very worried, Tobin is injured and she won’t relax until she sees her. She needs to get moving. 

“Aaaannnddd Tobin jumped out of a moving car,” Kling finishes up as she shakes her head. 

“What?” Becky yelps out, looking horrified. 

Kling nods, “But A.D. says she’s okay,” she reassures them, “like walking and talking and stuff.” 

Another text comes through. 

“She’s being taken to PPMC,” she reads, “an ambulance is almost there to get her.” 

“I can’t imagine what is going on there,” Becky says. 

Christen has her hand covering her mouth as she shakes her head. “I should pack a bag for her,” she murmurs. 

Tyler stands up, “And one for yourself,” 

Kling looks at Christen, “Do you want me to text her family the update?” 

“Would you?” Christen asks as she pushes back from the table, “I want to get there as quick as I can,” 

Kling nods, “No problem,” she says as her fingers fly on her phone, “I’ll let them know you’ll update them later okay?” 

“Perfect,” Christen calls over her shoulder from the hallway before she disappears into the bedroom with Tyler trailing behind her. 

XXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gave y'all a few more chapters than i planned since some of them were super short. 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments- I greatly appreciate it!


	12. Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This work is fiction. That means it's made up so please don't take anything written here as fact or character assassination. I use this RPF because i don't want to describe the physical characteristics of the people in the story because I'm kind of lazy like that. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

.

“Can you call Chris?” Tobin asks again rather frantically as Sinc and Lindsey help her up the embankment, “Please, I really need to see her face,” 

“We’ll call for sure,” Sinc assures her, “right after Bailey and Pierre check you out, okay, bud?” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods, growing silent as they continue to slowly make their way up to the road. 

“You okay?’ Nadine asks with concern. 

“I don’t feel so good,” Tobin answers quietly. 

“We’ll get you up there, buddy,” Lindsey assures her, adjusting her grip on the waistline of Tobin’s jeans as her and Sinc basically carry her up to the road. 

XXXX

“Hey, Chris,” Sinc’s face comes through on the video call, “I’ve got Tobin here,” she states, “hang on a sec,” 

“Thanks, Christine,” Christen says anxiously. Her and Tyler were almost out the door when her phone buzzed with a video call. 

Tyler, Becky and Kling crowd around Christen when she sits at the kitchen table, the three women peering over her shoulders. 

“Chris?” Tobin calls out, anxiously looking at her screen. 

“Hi, honey,” Christen greets, her voice wavering a little with her first view of Tobin. 

“You’re safe, right?” Tobin asks, squinting at her, “You’re okay?” 

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Christen replies, “are you okay?” She has to hold back her shock and fear when she sees how Tobin’s face is streaked with mud and blood, reminding herself  
to remain calm for Tobin’s benefit. If she panics, she knows Tobin will panic. 

Tobin gives her a half smile, “I’ve had better days,” she admits. 

Christen looks her over, frowning at the scrapes on Tobin’s chin and forehead near her temple. Her face is muddy with crusted blood from her nose that was being wiped up as they spoke, a gloved hand wiping at her skin. Another set of gloved hands were holding her head carefully, as if they were concerned for a neck injury. 

“She had a gun,” Tobin says as tears well in her eyes, “she said her friend had you,” 

Christen's stomach tightens up at the thought of a gun being pointed at her. She takes a quick breath. “I’m okay,” Christen soothes, “I’ll see you at the hospital,” 

“I don’t think I’m gonna play on Saturday,” Tobin says randomly as she frowns looking down. Christen can’t see what’s she’s looking at. 

“Ambulance is here,” Sinc announces, “Tobin, we have to hang up,” 

Tobin looks at Christen, her eyes wide, “I love you,” she says earnestly, “I love you so much,” she says as she begins to cry softly. 

“I love you, too,” Christen nods at her, “So much,” 

“Tobin, the paramedics need to get in here,” an accented male voice says apologetically off camera. Christen recognizes it to be Pierre, Crystal Dunn’s husband. 

“I’ll see you at the hospital, sweetheart,” she says lovingly, “you let them take care of you,” 

“Okay,” Tobin nods slightly, closing her eyes for a moment, opening them to stare at her, “you’re okay,” she mumbles and heaves out a deep sigh. “Thank you, God,” she weeps. 

The phone moves and Sinc’s face is looking at her apologetically, “I’m sorry,” she says with a crooked frown, “you heard they’re gonna take her to PPMC, right?” 

“Yes,” Christen nods, seeing the background change behind Sinc, the area filled with the flashing lights of emergency vehicles. 

Sinc nods, taking a small sip from a water bottle. Christen thinks she looks tired. 

“You okay?” she asks her with concern. 

Sinc nods, “I should be asking you that,” she states wryly. 

“I’m relieved to talk to her,” Christen admits, “but I won’t relax until they’ve checked her out at the hospital,” 

“Fair enough,” Sinc nods, “she might be a little concussed,” she warns, “and her wrist is really messed up,” she says, “she said she had her hands up to protect her head and her wrist took the impact.” 

Christen grimaces at the news. “Christine,” she says, suddenly feeling emotional, “I can’t thank you enough,” she says as she tears up, “what you did, the teams, everyone…” 

Sinc gives her a warm smile, “We take care of each other,” she says, then points at her, “but you and Tobin are buying drinks next time we get together,” she chuckles. 

Christen smiles and chuckles, “Steak dinners, too,” she adds. 

“We’ll talk soon,” Sinc says, “please keep Kling in the loop and she’ll update us, okay?” 

Christen nods, “Seriously,” she says, “thank you,” 

Sinc nods and they end the call. 

XXXX

The news had broke. 

The incorrect news, that is. 

The news of Tobin Heath’s car being involved in a violent and fiery fatal crash.

While sitting the emergency room bay waiting for Tobin to return from getting X-rays and cat scans, Christen decides to switch to Tobin’s Twitter account and make a simple statement. She goes back and forth with Tyler on what she should write, agreeing on what would sound most Tobin-like. 

She goes with a simple “Wasn’t me in the car. I’m alive and well yo” complete with a shaka emoji and peace sign. 

She’s already contacted Tobin’s family and given them an update as well as her own family. She spoke to Kling and learned Becky had updated the National Team to let their teammates know Tobin is okay. The Thorns have updated a few reporters, letting them know Tobin is alive and her car was stolen, which technically, it was. Statements from the team were published in hopes of quelling the erroneous rumors that Tobin was dead. 

Christen’s agent texts her who asks her if she’s okay and if there’s anything she could do. They agree to talk tomorrow and figure out if they need to say anything more than what’s out there right now. 

“Just put it down,” Tyler insists quietly, “and drink some water.” 

“You’re younger than me,” Christen retorts, “stop telling me what to do,” she smirks, giving her a small smile and pocketing her phone and picking up the water bottle next to her. She spins off the cap and takes a long drink and leans back into the uncomfortable chair. She’s still anxious, nervous to learn the extent of Tobin’s injuries. Nervous to hear exactly what happened in the hours they were apart. 

Christen closes her eyes, letting her breaths slow in order to attempt to relax. She doesn’t even realize she’s dozed off until her eyes fly open and she jerks up upon hearing the curtain getting pulled back and Tobin’s bed being wheeled into the ER bay. 

“Hey, baby,” a clearly drugged Tobin slurs at her, a wide tired smile on her face and her eyes half lidded as she looks at her. She looks pretty stoned. 

Christen stands quickly, coming to the side of the bed. A nurse is attaching lines coming from Tobin’s body to an array of machines. 

“She did really well,” the woman says, giving Christen a small smile, “it’ll be about an hour or so for the doctor to get the results of everything,”

“Thank you,” Christen nods, stepping closer to the bed, loosely holding Tobin’s hand she had raised in the air. “Hi honey,” she says tenderly to Tobin who sighs deeply and closes her eyes. 

“All her vitals are good,” the nurse offers, “her temp came up, she was a little hypothermic, but she’s in good shape now.” She gestures to the machines along the wall, “This is all for precautionary measures,” she assures Christen and glances at Tyler, who is silently sitting up against the wall, “we’ll most likely remove them once the results of her tests come back.” 

“Thank you,” Christen says quietly, “What..” she swallows, her throat suddenly drying up, “what are her injuries?” she asks nervously, looking down at the raised lump under the blankets that is Tobin’s right wrist. 

“Most likely a broken wrist,” the nurse confirms, “maybe a grade 1 concussion,” she states as she finishes getting the lines in place. “They’re checking her head for any possible brain bleeds as a precaution, checking her shoulder and hip for fractures and any possible internal bleeding.” 

Christen’s grip tightens, remaining mindful of the IV line on the top of Tobin’s hand. 

“It’s all normal for what happened,” the nurse reassures her, “just precautionary,” she looks over her shoulder and then turns back to face her, “they did the CAT scans first, if they had seen bleeds, she’d already be in surgery,” she says very quietly and gives her a wink.

“Oh, okay,” Christen nods with wide eyes, letting out a shaky breath of relief.

“Just relax and the doctor will be in shortly.” The nurse advises and leaves the curtained area. 

“Chris,” Tobin stirs and she then clears her throat, looking up at her with half lidded eyes, “I called my Mom about the holidays,” she says, her voice sounding brittle, as if she might begin to cry. 

“Okay,” Christen replies, her stomaching turning queasy, “we can figure it out later,” 

Tobin slowly shakes her head, her eyes near closed, consciousness fading, “She said she’s flexible to make it work for whatever,” she says, her words beginning to slur as she fades. 

“Okay honey,” Christen responds, tears pricking at her eyes. 

Tyler gives Christen a pointed look that Christen ignores as she focuses her gaze back on Tobin. 

She can’t help but tear up as she looks down at her partner, her other half, her soulmate. Tobin is a bit pale, there are some light bruises forming in the corners of her eyes near the base of her nose. She wonders if her nose is broken. The absurd thought passes through her mind of Tobin needing to play soccer with a dreaded facemask for a few weeks. There’s a scrape on her chin, the side of her jaw and one near her hairline. She’s been cleaned up from the mud and blood when she saw her for a few fleeting minutes before being whisked away for the x-rays and scans. 

She leans over and places a delicate kiss on Tobin’s forehead, feeling so incredibly grateful to be standing here with her now. She hasn’t had a chance to hear everything that happened to her and Tobin’s urgent need to know that she was safe and fine leads her to think. 

She felt a piece of herself break when Tobin brought up speaking to her Mom. Here she is, lying in a hospital bed after suffering through a horrific ordeal and getting injured. For Tobin to bring it up right now just shows Christen how out of control she’s become. She has to get better. She has to talk to her therapist and find herself again. She’s been floating through this state of grief and feeling delicate since her Mom passed. It’s manifested in her becoming a control freak, trying to have everything in order, eliminating any surprises. 

Just how much Christen’s own issues have affected Tobin have culminated here right now. Tobin, sedated and exhausted felt compelled to share with her that she spoke to her Mom. It shows Christen how bothered Tobin was when she left the house that she now brings it up. With everything she’s been through tonight, Tobin was still thinking of her and wanted to reassure her she had made the call she had promised to make earlier this evening. 

Christen uses her free hand to wipe at her eyes, resolving to take steps to pull herself out of this dangerous place she’s gotten herself into. 

XXXX


	13. Family

.

“I love you, Ma,” Tobin slurs from her nest on the couch, giving her Mom a one-handed hug, “we’ll see you in Orlando in a few weeks, okay?” 

“Yes, honey,” her Mom says, placing a hand on Tobin’s cheek, “take care of yourself, you hear? If you need to talk to someone-”

Tobin nods solemnly, “I will,” she says, nodding her head loosely, “I plan to,” 

Cindy Heath places a kiss on her daughter’s forehead, “I love you,” she says and then moves to Christen, giving her a crushing hug, “If you need anything,” she says emotionally, “you just call and I’ll be here,” 

“Okay,” Christen nods against the older women’s shoulder, “thank you,” she says with a trembling voice. Since her own Mother’s passing she knows Mrs. Heath has been acutely aware of the void Christen feels and has been amazing to the younger woman. Christen has felt how their relationship has shifted since her Mom’s death, how Cindy would be certain to call to talk just to her for bit. She would never push to take her Mom’s place, rather she was working on the two of them having their own unique relationship that’s much deeper than Christen being Tobin’s fiancée. Christen is so grateful for the wonderful woman and how they’ve grown closer and formed their own special relationship.   
Cindy is the last visitor to leave. It’s Sunday, the morning of gameday and Christen intends to play tonight. Her own sisters and Father left this morning and Tobin’s Dad, brother and two sisters left only an hour ago. It’s been an emotional forty-eight hours and Christen feels drained. 

On Saturday, Tobin was in and out of consciousness, loopy and sore, the powerful pain killers she was given making her sleepy. They celebrated Tobin surviving her terrifying ordeal upon her arrival home from the hospital just before noon yesterday. 

Tobin had surgery on her wrist at the crack of dawn yesterday, the orthopedic doctor for the Thorns had been notified while Tobin was in the ER Friday night and upon viewing her X-rays, booked a surgical suite for her first thing the following morning. She’s now sporting a thick padded bandage from her elbow to fingers, her thumb immobilized and padded. She hasn’t moved much at all today except to eat some breakfast and lunch at the kitchen table and use the bathroom a couple of times. 

A.D. had called Christen this afternoon offering to hang with Tobin during the match since she’s on the injured list. Christen thought it was a wonderful idea and A.D. would be arriving right before she leaves for Providence Park. Tobin had encouraged her to play if she felt like it, sensing Christen needed the physical outlet to relive some of her stress. As usual, Tobin was correct and it’s exactly what Christen needs. 

Now the two are alone after Christen repeatedly assured Becky, Kling, Sinc and a host of others that they would be okay for the few hours before the match. Christen turns the lock on the door and then pads down the hallway, looking over to the couch where Tobin gives her a sleepy half smile and pats the cushion next to her with her left hand. 

“Hard chill?” she asks sleepily, looking hopeful. 

“For a little bit,” Christen replies. She’s feeling anxious, wanting to get moving, work off this jumpy vibe she’s feeling but she’s also torn and needs to feel Tobin next to her. They both passed out last night, going to bed early and sleeping hard until morning. Christen actually slept in for bit until she heard Tyler moving around the kitchen and greeting Cindy in the hallway. A nap sounds nice if she can relax for a bit. She moves to the couch, settling in next to Tobin on the chaise, being careful to move slowly and not jostle her. Tobin immediately places her left arm around Christen’s shoulder and pulls her close. Christen adjusts the blanket and doublechecks her alarm is set on her phone before snuggling in. 

“How are you feeling?” Tobin asks quietly, her voice a little clearer. 

“I’m okay,” Christen responds, “I could use a nap,” She feels Tobin nod against the side of her head and then press a kiss into her hair. She’s unsure if she’ll sleep, yet it would be nice to just lay here with Tobin. 

“Seriously,” Tobin speaks again, “if you want to play, do it. It’s not going to hurt my feelings or anything,” 

“I know,” Christen replies as she taps two fingers against Tobin’s stomach, “I’m pretty sure I want to,” she goes on, “I’ll make a decision when I wake up,” 

“Okay,” Tobin agrees and then yawns, “I’m so tired,” 

“Sleep baby,” Christen murmurs as she snuggles close. 

Christen wakes an hour and a half later, suddenly wide awake and feeling the need to get ready. She’s going to play. She has to. Playing will allow her to get out her emotions through a positive channel and help her get her head straight. She needs her pregame ritual right now. 

Tobin is next to her, propped up due to her broken nose, her mouth hanging open slightly with soft snores emanating from within. She looks absolutely drained, still a bit pale and yet she’s resting comfortably, there’s no wrinkles across her forehead from worry. Christen is glad Tobin appears pain free at the moment, it hurts her to see Tobin suffer.   
Christen does feel a little selfish in playing tonight and not staying here to take care of Tobin, yet she knows Tobin understands. Tobin usually always understands her. It’s wonderful and frustrating and frightening at times just how much Tobin understands her. 

Christen carefully untangles herself from Tobin’s arm, making sure to cover her fiancé with the blanket. She heads for the bedroom, needing to pee and organize her gear for tonight. Her phone is in her hand and she texts her coach, stating she’ll be at the hotel to take the team bus over to the stadium. 

Tobin feels Christen leave her side, blearily becoming aware of her departure. She truly doesn’t have an issue with her playing tonight, she understands the need. How soccer grounds them both. She keeps her eyes closed, feeling comfortable and warm and lazy right now. Besides, she thinks Chris needs some time to herself and do her own thing. Even with the pain meds, Tobin is aware how on edge Chris has been and it’s not just because of the carjacking. She’s been like this for a couple of months now. 

The last two days have been a blur. She remembers talking to Chris via video Friday night before the ambulance arrived. Bailey and Pierre were so kind to her, reassuring her she would be okay and calming her down. Sinc assured her she would get Chris to the hospital. Everyone was so kind. 

She remembers talking to the Police before the ambulance left. Sinc held her hand while she recounted what happened to the two detectives. Once they were on the road, the EMT gave her some pain meds and she felt much better, if not a little out of it. 

She remembers them cutting off her clothes, it was super bright in the room and there were so many voices talking over one another, it sounded so confusing and a little frightening. She feared she was injured more seriously than she realized and then they gave her some drugs and she felt even more relaxed and was wheeled away. She fell asleep for a bit and woke up to seeing Chris looking very worried. She wanted to stay up and talk to her, but she was so tired she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She was content that Chris was by her side and knew she would handle whatever came up. 

Then next morning she woke up feeling sore and she had surgery on her wrist. She wasn’t really with it and feeling clear headed until they got home and both of their families were there. She was scared for a moment that something was really wrong. Chris had to explain they were here for her, to make sure she was okay after what happened last night.   
She was out of it and sleepy for a decent part of the day, remembering bits and pieces of talking to her sisters and Channing and Tyler and Cody and her Dad looking upset. Her brother teased her about kicking her ass at Mario Kart finally and then she remembers eating her Mom’s lasagna at the kitchen table. Things just sort of blurred in and then faded, but she remembers Chris being by right by her all the time. 

She remembers being on the couch with Chris being at her side most of the time, looking tired and sad and nervous. She tried to assure her she was fine, she would be okay, but she knows she wasn’t talking much sense. She vaguely remembers just being on the couch most of the day. 

Today was better, she felt like she actually had conversations with everyone before they left. It was good to see them, but she felt bad that what happened had scared them all so badly. She’s going to make sure she sends them gift cards for air travel as a thank you. 

But Chris is on her mind now and she’s worried. She scared that Chris is regressing back to her unbalanced nervous self like she was before the 2015 World Cup. Chris has been doing so good, she’s made so much progress in learning to let go and be free since then. Her Mom dying certainly was a huge blow to her and sent her spinning for sure. But lately, even before what happened with the carjacking slash attempted kidnapping, Chris has gotten so particular about everything and everything has to be done _now._ Then she would realize how unreasonable she’s being and becomes apologetic and then quiet. Her being quiet is the worst, Tobin has such a hard time reading her then. 

She’s still uncertain about how to broach the subject of Chris maybe seeing her therapist again. She’s been praying for the right time and the right words and she feels tonight after the match is it. It makes sense because Chris will be in town for another two days before she returns to Utah and it would give them a chance to have a healthy conversation about it. But she feels compelled to begin that conversation tonight. Hopefully, she won’t bring home a bunch of teammates. She would understand if she did, she knows everyone is concerned about what happened. Everyone has been amazing since it happened. She knows she needs to really thank everyone for what they did. 

She opens her eyes and flips the blanket to the side, sighing comfortably on the chaise, pleased that she bought such a useful piece of furniture. She slowly shifts to rise, wincing a little when her bruised hip takes some pressure as she moves to the side of the sofa. She stands up and adjusts the sling and quietly pads to the kitchen to get some water. 

She’s taking a drink from her cup when Christen walks down the hall, her gear bag in hand. 

“Hey,” Tobin smiles at her, “you ready to kick some ass tonight?”

Christen smiles at her, “I think so,” she nods, “you look like you’re feeling better,” she says, coming close to look her over carefully. 

Tobin nods, “I am,” she agrees, “still really sore but good. Did you eat already?” 

Chris nods, “I ate big earlier,” she says, “I’ll have a snack when I get to the stadium,” 

Tobin nods, knowing her pregame ritual. She leans against the counter, scratching lightly at the side of her nose, “You doing okay?” she asks carefully. 

“Right now, yes,” Christen replies honestly, “I just want to play,” she bites her lower lip, sensing Tobin wants to discuss this further and she really hopes she doesn’t want to do this right now. The thought crosses her mind that this is probably how Tobin felt on Friday night, trying to get out the door and she brought up something important and wouldn’t let it go. 

Instead, Tobin gives her a bright smile, “Go kill it out there,” she says, stepping in to hug her with her left arm, “I love you,” she says tenderly. 

“I love you, too,” Christen replies, rubbing Tobin’s back slowly, “I left a note with the times of your meds over on the back counter,” she murmurs, not moving from their embrace, her hands continually moving along Tobin’s body, needing to feel her, “and there’s plenty of food in the fridge.” 

Tobin is just as content to hold Christen, even if it is with one arm around her and she carefully rests her head on Christen’s shoulder, “Thanks, babe,” she says, her lips brushing against Christen’s neck, “I’m getting kinda hungry,” she admits, knowing it would make her partner feel relieved that her appetite is returning. She wants more than anything for Chris to be content. But she’s acutely aware that her fiancé has some serious issues that she needs to work on. 

This isn’t anything new, after the 2016 Olympics Tobin helplessly watched Christen spiral into a deep depression. She supported her as best she could, reading multiple articles and books on the subject, doing her damnedest to be a good partner to her. She brought it up with her own therapist she checks in with occasionally, earnestly asking her for the tools to help Chris as best she could. 

Tobin hates when she feels out of her element, not knowing the right words to say. Tonight though, tonight she will try to find those words when she asks Christen to seriously consider to seek some help. 

XXXX


	14. Blessings

.

“Damn!” A.D. curses, “What a shot!” She shakes her head, feeling frustrated and slightly in awe of the angle in which the goal was scored. 

“There was nothing Bix could do,” Tobin observes, a sly smile on her face, “That was a crazy goal.” 

A.D. elbows her lightly, “Yer girl got a hattrick!” 

Tobin shrugs but beams with pride, “I’m glad she played,” she says, “she needed to,” 

A.D. nods knowingly, “Yeah,” she agrees, “she’s been pretty wound up,” 

Tobin nods absently, thinking it must be pretty damn apparent for her to observe Christen’s behavior.

“She’s been struggling since her Mom,” she states quietly.

A.D. sighs, “Yeah, I know,” she says, “we talked about it,” 

That surprises Tobin, making her turn her head to look at the goalkeeper. 

A.D. just smiles, “We talk, ya know,” she says easily.

Tobin rolls her eyes, “Yeah, I know,” she pauses, “wait, really?” 

A.D. nods and shrugs, “With all the BLM stuff and the new Black Players org, we talk.” 

Tobin nods, “Has she said how she’s doing?” Tobin asks tentatively, frowning. 

A.D. eyes her, seeing her worry. “It’s been a tough year,” she states, “the whole racial thing coming to the forefront,” she sighs, rubbing the side of her head, “I wasn’t prepared for that. It brought up a lot of stuff, ya know? And the pandemic, having to quarantine…” she gives her a tired look, “it takes a lot out of ya. You know that,” 

Tobin nods. 

“She’s down,” A.D. states matter of factly, “there’s no doubt about it. But she’s not ready to climb herself out yet.” 

Tears well in Tobin’s eyes, “I so wish she was,” she whispers. 

“I do too,” A.D. agrees, laying a hand on Tobin’s thigh, “Who knows,” she grins at her, “maybe what happened to you will be one of those blessings in disguise you always talk about.” 

Tobin arches an eyebrow at her, “Huh,” she considers, “yeah, who knows.” It gives her something to think about. 

And she does. 

Ten minutes later, the Thorns pull out a win despite Christen’s hattrick. A.D. reluctantly lets Tobin convince her to go home when Tobin repeatedly assures her she would be fine for an hour on her own. It feels strange to be alone. She walks through the condo, just looking, as if she’s reacquainting herself with the place after being gone for a long time. She rolls her eyes fondly when she sees the few pieces of today’s unopened mail in a neat stack on the narrow table in the hallway by the front door. That’s her Mom’s doing and she’s positive she’ll find other little details from her visit. 

She opens the louvered doors in the hallway to expose the laundry area. One glance in the filled basket of clean clothes she sees that Perry was on a mission. She can tell just from how the clothes are folded. When she enters the kitchen she glances in the cabinets knowing Tyler and Channing, in their effort to help out with the dishes, have most likely placed items in their incorrect spot and Christen will grumble about it with a smile until it’s reorganized to how they should be. 

Tobin also knows not to do the reorganizing while Christen is here, it’s one of those tasks she wants to do herself and she respects it. The unspoken rule is that Tobin has full license to finish whatever may be misplaced after Christen leaves. 

She doesn’t need to look around to know that her Father has checked the furnace filter and most likely replaced it while also giving a once over to the lint trap and vent on the dryer while he was here. She knows Cody has sharpened their cooking knives and no doubt tsked about how dull had they become and wonder aloud how either her or Chris hadn’t cut off a digit. 

Her brother Jeffrey will leave some Post-It notes with random quotes or jokes in strange places. She’s found them before inside the cabinet doors, the freezer, inside the second bathroom shower, on her PS3 system and elsewhere. He’s also known to create little people out of tin foil and leave them around as well. It makes her smile. 

She looks through the pantry for a snack, shaking her head with how Katie has straightened it up with the labels of the cans and boxes facing forward. Dissatisfied with the selection, she moves to the refrigerator. She usually will have some fruit or a yogurt but she figures she won’t be playing for a while so it won’t hurt anything to sneak a treat. In the freezer she finds a box of ice cream sandwiches. The old school ones like she used to get as a kid from the ice cream truck that would linger by the soccer fields when she seven or eight years old. The completely unhealthy, not sure if it’s real ice cream and let’s not even think of what the sandwich part made of treat. A treat she would never buy, no matter how bad she was PMSing. Her Mom must have bought them, she figures. 

It takes a minute to unwrap it one handed, clumsily tearing at the thin waxed paper enough to shake it free. Tobin can’t remember how long it’s been since she had one of these, licking at the already melting vanilla quasi-ice cream. She tries not think of how many chemicals she is putting into her body at the moment and just enjoy it. 

She moves to the couch, sitting on the opposite side, using a pillow under her right arm for support. She feels like she’s made an imprint of her butt on the chaise and gives it a rest for a while. Unfortunately, she realizes she only has one hand, which is holding the ice cream sandwich. She can’t use the remote and the screen is showing the message that her event is over. She rolls her eyes and huffs in between bites, then shakes her head at herself for being so impatient. 

It only takes under two minutes before she’s eaten the whole thing. She’s surprised she didn’t get an ice cream headache or brain freeze then considers again if it truly was ice cream anyway. She picks up the remote, navigating the screen to find something to watch. She mindlessly scrolls around for a few minutes before clicking on one of those shows where buyers are finding the perfect lake house to buy. She settles in to watch, using her good hand to pull the ever present blanket over herself, slightly annoyed because it takes so long and multiple attempts to get herself covered up. She leans back into her comfortable slouch and puts her feet on the coffee table, content to just chill and look at the interesting houses. 

She’s watched nearly two half hour episodes when she hears the key in the door lock. 

XXXX


	15. Peace

.

Tobin smiles like she does every time she knows Chris is walking through the door. One handedly she untangles herself from the confirms of the blanket, getting to her feet as Chris walks down the hallway. 

“Hey, babe!” Tobin greets, smiling big and offering her arm out for a hug, “You played amazing tonight!” 

“Thanks babe,” Chris replies, giving her a kiss before encircling her arms around her gently while aware of her injuries. 

“Hat trick, huh?” Tobin, kissing her neck, smiling against her freshly showered skin. 

“Still lost,” Chris mumbles with aggravation, “I don’t know why Craig insists we can win with the singular offensive plan of ‘loft the ball down the field to Christen’,” she frowns. 

Tobin pulls back and looks at her with her nose scrunched, stopping quickly with the sharp pain she feels. “Ow,” she frowns, then looks at her, “I’m sorry,” she says genuinely,  
“that does suck, you have Vero and D-Math, I don’t know why he doesn’t let you build plays,” 

“Yeah,” Chris says with frustration, “I don’t know, maybe it’s just me tonight,” 

“Well,” Tobin gives her a smile, holding it until she returns one to her, “you sure capitalized on that plan tonight.” 

Christen shrugs, “I got lucky,” she says not wanting to be cocky. 

“Oh, that last one wasn’t lucky at all,” Tobin insists, “that angle was insane.” 

Chris finally gives her the true smile Tobin was waiting for, “I guess,” she says humbly. 

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” Tobin asks, raising her eyebrows expectantly. 

“I’ll get something in a minute,” she replies, “how was your night with A.D.?” 

“Good,” Tobin grins, “nice to catch up with her,” 

“How are you feeling?” Christen asks as she looks her over, glancing up and down and then studying her face. 

“Like the fog is lifting,” Tobin replies, “much clearer headed,” 

She nods, “Go sit,” she orders, “I’m going to get a snack, can I get you anything?” 

“I’m good,” Tobin nods, deciding to curl up in the corner, dragging the blanket over with her. 

“Tobin Powell Heath!” she hears as she gets settled. “An ice cream sandwich?” 

“Um, yeah?” Tobin answers timidly, knowing what’s coming next and suppressing a grin. 

“Do you know how many chemicals are in this?” Christen sternly questions, “This is so unhealthy!” 

“But, babe,” Tobin tries, “it’s my favorite,” she whines, “I haven’t had any in forever,” She hears Chris moving around the kitchen. “I went through a traumatic experience!” 

“Uh huh,” Chris replies, “and you won’t have anymore,” she warns, although Tobin can clearly hear the smile in her voice. Christen walks to the couch to join Tobin, carefully crawling in next to her. 

“An ice cream sandwich?” Tobin questions, arching an eyebrow at her. 

Christen raises her eyebrows in return, “What?” she questions, “I went through a traumatic experience, too,” 

Tobin smiles, leaning over to pucker her lips for a kiss, “Yes, you did,” she says when they pull back. 

Tobin scans the channels while Chris eats her ice cream treat. Tobin clicks on SportsCenter, just to have something on. 

When Christen finishes her snack, she links her hand with Tobin’s and snuggles closer. “So, how are you doing?” she asks seriously, wanting to know how Tobin is feeling about the past few days. 

“I think I’ll talk to Stephanie,” Tobin shares, “I have some fear about it happening again and I want to know what the Thorns are doing about tightening security in the parking lot.” 

“Uh huh,” Chris hums, “you didn’t recognize her, did you?” 

“Nah,” Tobin says, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before, but who knows,” she shrugs, “we meet so many people at matches and when we go out,” 

Christen nods, “I wonder who she is,” 

“Yeah,” Tobin sighs, “it was really messed up what she did,” she says, “but it’s so terrible that she died. I feel awful about that.” 

“It is,” Cristen agrees, “but you had no responsibility in that happening,” 

“I know,” Tobin shifts, twisting to face her, “I just absolutely hate that sports and celebrity brings out fans that can sometimes get unhinged, you know? It’s scary. We see it and hear about it all the time,” she says passionately, “and then we get shit on if we don’t sign stuff or stop for photos. They’re the ones who are driving us to it.” 

“Society puts such an emphasis on celebrity culture,” Christen states, “and I’m glad the two of us have really scaled back on our social media platforms to stop feeding into it. It’s bad enough when every single post we make gets placed under scrutiny and all sorts of off the wall rumors get started.” 

“Especially the break up ones,” Tobin groans with frustration, “those are the worst.” 

“I’m glad everyone who knows us just ignores all that stuff,” Chris says, “although it’s weird how they stalk my sisters.” 

“Yeah, I hate that too,” Tobin agrees, “but they chose to keep their stuff public, so,” she shrugs, “plus, they have fake ones like we do for private stuff.” She smiles, “If the fans found those pages,” she chuckles, “they’d go wild.” 

The two are silent for a moment, enjoying the closeness of one another. 

“Can I ask you something?” Tobin speaks quietly, letting her thumb rub over the top of Christen’s hand. 

Christen nods quickly, looking at her with interest, “What is it, honey?” 

“How are _you_ doing?” Tobin asks tenderly. 

Christen’s mouth opens as if she’s going to speak and then shuts. She shouldn’t be surprised by Tobin’s question, she’s just caught off guard that she’s bringing it up now. Then again, Tobin would be thinking of how she’s doing, it’s been a dramatic past few days. 

“I” she starts, unable to exactly form a sentence, so she shifts to face Tobin and buy herself a few seconds, “it’s been a lot lately,” she says slowly, “and I’m not just talking about what happened to you. This whole thing, the pandemic, the quarantine, the social issues, riots,” she sighs, “it’s been a lot.” 

Tobin makes a noise in her throat, lifting their hands to kiss the top of Christen’s. It makes Christen smile, how Tobin can just do something so simple to comfort her. 

“Tobin, I miss my Mom,” she admits, feeling the tears coming, laying it all out for Tobin, “and I feel like it’s not getting better,” she says and sighs deeply. “And I think I need to talk to someone,” she adds somberly. 

Tobin presses her lips together, looking sympathetic as she nods, “Grief is hard,” she says quietly, “and there’s no playbook for it,” she gives her a rueful crooked grin, “and it’s your Ma, she was amazing.” 

Christen nods as she sniffles, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been,” she says, frowning, “I’ve been on your case about everything and I-” 

“No, Chris,” Tobin cuts her off, “I knew what was going on,” she admits, “I knew you were struggling and I didn’t know how to help you and I’ve prayed for the right timing to bring it up,” she says, “when maybe you were ready to hear it.” Tobin twists and pulls Chris down so her head on her lap and Christen stretches out her legs on the couch. Tobin tenderly strokes her curly hair from her face, “I can’t even imagine the loss you feel, babe,” she says honestly, “and I can only be here for you and sometimes it feels like it’s not enough and it makes me worry,” 

Christen sniffs, letting her tears run from the corners of her eyes, back into her hairline as she looks up at Tobin. “I know,” she says emotionally, “I know I’ve been a handful,” she says, her voice trembling, “and I thought I could handle it. I can’t,” she confesses, “I can’t anymore, it’s too much.” 

Tobin blinks back tears as she curls her arm around Chris and holds her close as she cries. “It’s okay,” she assures her, “it’s okay to not be okay,” she keeps her voice soft and low, “and this is totally something you can work on. You know you can, babe, you just need a little help to get you going in the right direction,” 

Christen nods, wiping at her eyes, “I know,” she acknowledges, “and I know you’ll be there, supporting me,” 

“I will,” Tobin nods earnestly, “anything you need,”

Christen raises her hand to caress Tobin’s jaw, “I know,” she says, “and I love you so much,” 

“I love you,” Tobin says, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, “I love you so much,” she leans down and kisses her tenderly. Christen remains lying on Tobin’s lap while Tobin runs her fingers through her hair. It’s comforting. Christen feels at peace. A weight has been lifted. Now that she’s vocalized it, she feels as if she can face needing help. Opening up to someone and learning the tools to cope with her feelings is daunting, but she knows this is something she must do. 

It’s not the first time Christen has worked with a therapist. She’s done it before, in college and then on her own in Sweden. Yoga and meditation have been a life saver to her, uplifting and centering her in ways she never thought possible. She’s even gotten Tobin to meditate and enjoy it and Tobin has trouble sitting still for longer than ten minutes.  
She’s broken out of her thoughts by Tobin chuckling, a wistful smile on her face. 

“What, honey?” Chris asks, looking up at her and seeing how relaxed her fiancé appears. 

“Something that A.D. said,” she murmurs. Christen waits. 

“She said maybe what happened to me would be a blessing in disguise,” Tobin remarks, giving Christen a wistful look. 

Christen considers it, wondering if it’s true. “Well,” she begins slowly, “you are alive after being carjacked at gunpoint and jumping out of a moving vehicle,” she states, pausing for a moment, “and I have finally accepted needing help.” She moves off Tobin’s lap, kneeling in between Tobin’s spread legs. She reaches out to cradle Tobin’s face in her hand, “I think I agree with her. Some good things happened for both of us during the hours you were gone.” 

“I think so too,” Tobin nods, looking deep into Christen’s eyes. Her hand slowly moves up to caress Christen’s side. 

Christen gives her an amused look, “And what do you think you’re doing?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow at her. 

“Showing you how grateful I am,” Tobin responds saucily. 

“Sweetie,” Christen shakes her head with a chuckle, “you only have one hand right now,” she says. 

“I can be ambidextrous,” she cheekily replies with an impudent grin, “or I don’t have to use my hands,” 

“Your nose is broken,” Christen reminds her while Tobin’s hand climbs higher to gently grip her breast and Christen arches her back at the touch, "your knees are all scraped up," she reminds her. 

“I’ll be careful,” she promises with a twinkle in her eyes and a smirk on her face. 

“Tobin,” Christen is indecisive, “I don’t think this is a good idea,” 

“I think it’s a very good idea,” Tobin says as persuasively as possible. 

Christen taps the end of her nose with her index finger, she hums, “I think it’s too soon and I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” 

Tobin sighs deeply, “You’re probably right,” she admits. 

“You’re not even supposed to be laying on your back yet because of your nose,” Christen continues, looking deeply at her, “I want to,” she admits, “I really do,” she says, “I thought I’d never feel you again,” she says emotionally, “but it’s too soon,” 

Tobin nods understandingly, knowing Chris is right, “Can we just lay here and I can hold your boob?” she asks quietly.

Christen chuckles, “Of course,” she smiles, leaning in to kiss her once more. They stare at each other as if they’re trying to memorize one another’s features. 

“I love you,” Tobin says, kissing her again.

“I love you,” Christen replies heartfully, grateful she says the second chance to say that to her. 

They both snuggle in on the chaise, content to lie there watching the real estate shows and quietly talking about their likes and dislikes of each home showcased. It’s as if they’ve both taken this time to experience a typical quiet evening both knowing they have reality to face tomorrow. Neither are frightened about tomorrow since they know they’ll support one another. 

Christen is aware that one visit to her therapist won’t magically make her feel better, she’ll still miss her Mom. But she’ll work on her grief, digging deep to find the things she just hasn’t been able to articulate about the loss of her Mom. She’ll work on the compulsive behaviors and work to tame them. 

She’ll work. 

Tobin may never know who the woman was who forced her into her own car and kidnapped her. She knows she might never get the closure of knowing why the woman did what she did and she’ll have to work to accept that. Sometimes, you just don’t know why people act as they do. She’s smart enough to realize she might have some lingering issues with what happened, mental ones that might surface long after her physical injuries have healed. 

She’ll need to address them and vows that she will. 

Tonight, they’ll lay here and take comfort from each other and face whatever tomorrow brings. 

Fini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it this far- I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and kind comments, I certainly appreciate them. 
> 
> Got a few more things I'm working on, I'm struggling focusing on just one work lately. My mind is whirly about I guess. 
> 
> Take care, see y'all soon!

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a little bit different of an approach to how I normally write stories. Since the chapters are so short, I thought it would be better to post them in small groups. Oh, yeah, and it appears that almost every chapter ends with a cliffhanger, so there's that. 
> 
> So, what are you thinking? Love to hear your feedback!


End file.
